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Arthur who with lance in rest. 

From spur to plume a star of tournament. 

Shot thro* the lists of Camelot, and charged 
Before the eyes of ladies and of Kings" —Tennyson. 


Jling Arthur’s Tomb, Innsbruck 



Stor^ 

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3n twelve 


Winona (T. ^tlartln 




Storytellers 
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Copyright, 1915, by H. D. Newson 
Ai.l Rights Reserveb 
Published June, 1915 


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JUL -6 1915 

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PREFACE 


Of all the legends of bygone ages which we in the foremost ranks 
of time may call onr own perhaps none have come to us so fraught 
with the spirit of lofty idealism as those which cluster about the 
figure of King Arthur of Britain and the mystic Quest of tlie Holy 
Grail. 

In their devious wanderings down the centuries they have grad- 
ually been purified of all original coarseness while still retaining 
that wonderful charm and simplicity which belongs to the tales of 
the childhood of the race. Furthermore, upon the lips of many a 
bard, both ancient and modern, they have become literature, so that 
they are now the rightful heritage of the child of to-day, and should, 
in one form or another, find a place in every class room as supple- 
mentary reading at least. 

Because, for obvious reasons, in dealing with young children, 
the versions of the masters have not always proved practicable) 
the author has ventured to offer this little volume which grew out of 
a library story-hour trusting that it may be useful to mothers, teachers, 
children’s librarians and others who are endeavoring to hold before 
the cliildren of a materialistic age that vision without which the 
people perish. 


\V. C. M. 


DEDICATION 

TO THE MEMORY OF A “VERY PERFECT, 
GENTLE KNIGHT,” THIS LITTLE 
BOOK IS DEDICATED. 


TABLE OF CONTENTS 


C’hapter 


Page 


Preface 

Heroes, by Gertrude C. Hopkins X 

I. Merlin and His Prophecies 1 

II. How Arthur Won His Kingdom 12 

III. How Arthur Won His Sword “Excalibur,” His Bride and 

His Round Table 25 

I^^ Gareth the Kitchen Knave 38 

V. Geraint with the Sparrow-Hawk 51 

VI. Tristram the Forest Knight 65 

VH. The Adventures of Launcelot 81 

VHI. The Dolorous Stroke 94 

IX. The Coming of Galahad 107 

X. The Quest of the Holy Grail 118 

XI. The Achieving of the Quest 131 

XH. The Passing of Arthur 143 






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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

King Arthur’s Tomb Frontispiece 

The Enchanted Sword VI 

Angel With Sword XII 

Strife, Rosa (Louvre, Paris) 3 

So the Land Became Desolate 15 

Grey Famine Stalked Abroad (Henderson Collection, Manchester) 

Burne-Jones 17 

The Knight’s Vigil (Tate Gallery, London) Pettie 21 

The Knight Corot 26 

Beata Beatrix (Tate Collection) Rossetti 27 

St. Michael, “Fire Spouted from the Dragon’s Nostrils,” (Louvre, Paris) 

Raphael 31 

The Archbishop (Louvre, Paris) Ingres 35 

Deer in Forest (Louvre, Paris) Courbet 39 

Old Ruined Castle (Louvre, Paris) Hobbema 54 

Armourer, Detail from Forge of Vulcan (Prado, Madrid) .... Velasquez 55 

Tournament Rubens 6 1 

Beatrice de Cusance (Windsor Castle) Pan Dyck 63 

The Duke of Alba (Old Masters) Moro 67 

Portrait (Budapest) Kaufmann 73 

Landscape (London) Le Dominiquin 75 

Landscape (Old Masters) Ruysdael 82 

' Seascape (London) Turner 91 

Forest Edge (Louvre, Paris) Diaz 99 

Banquet of Guards (Haarlem) .Hals 101 

The Singing Angels (Royal Museum, Berlin) Pan Dyck 109 

Detail from Pilgrims to Canterbury (London National Gallery). S/o//iard 117 

Equestrian Portrait Charles I (Prado, Madrid) Van Dyck 121 

A Young and Strangely Beautiful Woman 125 

Then He Saw That the Man Was Bors 129 

Potemkin (Prado, Madrid) Carreno de Miranda 133 

Old Castle (Fine Arts, Chicago) Michel 151 


I.X 


THE ENCHANTED SWORD 


THE 

ENCHANTED 

SWORD* 

Which will sever 
the cruel pris- 
oning bands 


’Perseus, 
Burne-Jones. 
\Courttsy of 
Braun et Cie.] 




ll'feroas 


Small Boy is here beside me — 
Quiet, just for a space — 

No laughter-imps deride me; 

A dream-look steals to his face. 


And I know that a pageant of marvel 
Holds that wide-eyes stare: 
Wonderful white-winged carvels, 
Skimming both water and air; 


OF ACTIONS BRAVE AND STRONG 


Weaving of spells by witch-fires. 

Waving of wands, and chants; 

The Brave Prince lost in the pitch-mires. 
The mountain of glass which slants 


Dear boy, I shall make a prayer 
To be said by me for you; 

But the boon that I ask we’ll share. 
For my heart will rejoice anew. 


, Terribly upward ever; 

The Maiden, wringing her hands; 
The Enchanted Sword which will sever 
The cruel, prisoning bands. 


Heroes throng to the vision 
Roland and Oliver, 

Arthur of sacred mission 
With the brand Excalibur. 


The Cid is there, bestriding 
Babieca, poorly named. 

And there in humble hiding. 
Good Alfred hugely shamed. 


By rating of the goodwife — 

He burned the cates forsooth 
And, hero of the wood-life. 

Soft steps an Indian youth: 



\ 


The forge of Vulcan’s flaring. 
Leap Brunhilde’s magic flames. 
While Jack, of dauntless daring. 
The towering giant shames. 

The Golden Fleece is taken 
Down from the dangerous tree; 
The Walls of Troy are shaken — 
But his gaze comes back to me. 


If the vision hall never leave you 
Of actions brave and strong. 

Of lilies that we love and cleave to 
Of strivings to right the wrong: 

If, heroes of boyhood discarding. 

With heroes indeed you replace. 
Knowing and loving and guarding 
The heritage of the race. 

Gertrude C. Hopkins. 


XI 



CmAHLC'^ 


Stor^ of Uiing ^rtl)ur 

“And I saw mage Merlin, whose vast wit 
And hundred winters are but as the hands 
Of Loyal vassals toiling for their liege.” 

Tennyson’s “Coming of Arthur.” 


After the last story is told (the Passing of Arthur), and the children standing with Sir 
Bevidere upon the highest crag of the jutting rock, see the warrior King pass with the three 
tall queens in the dusky barge beyond the limits of the world, they too, wonder gazing on the 
splendor of his Passing. Though defeated in the last weird battle in the west, yet he was vic- 
torious in his ideals, for he became the spiritual King of his race. 

“From the great deep to the great deep he goes.” The children hear but do not quite 
understand — it is the better for that because something of the mystery of life and death is 
awakened in the child. In that it serves its highest purpose. It helps the child to realize 
that there are things in life that eye have not seen nor ear heard, and let it not be forgotten 
that while we use these great stories for formal work, the formal is always the result of the creative. 

“The letter killeth; the spirit giveth life.” Thus it is that child and teacher leave the 
low plains of the “lesson hearer” and hand in hand walk the upland pastures of the soul. — Ed. 


I 

Mlerlln an6 H'fls ^rop^ecles 

O NCE, in those dim, far off times when history fades away and 
is lost in the mists of tradition, there sat upon the throne of 
Britain a man named Vortigern. Like many another king of 
his day — and of later days for that matter — he had no right what- 
ever to the crown, for he had gained it by the betrayal of a trust, 
and, some believed, by a still darker crime. Constantine, his over- 
lord, who had reigned in Britain before him, had, at his death, com- 
mitted to this Vortigern, his chief minister, the care of his three sons, 
Constans, the heir, and his two brothers Pendragon and Uther. Soon 


2 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


after the King’s death little Constans had mysteriously disappeared. 
Then the true friends of the two remaining princes, fearing for their 
lives, had fled with them across the sea and found refuge for them at 
the court of France. 

All this, however, was now many years ago; and so long had 
Vortigern’s right to rule been unquestioned that he had almost for- 
gotten his crime. 

In the early days of his reign he had indeed fought valiantly 
against the only enemies that the Britons had at that time greatly to 
fear. These were the tall, fair-haired, blue-eyed Saxons who came 
from beyond the seas, led by Hengest and Horsa. But as the years had 
passed, he and his warriors had given themselves up more and more to 
lives of luxury and idleness, so that at last they had been obliged to 
make a shameful peace with the enemy, and the Saxons were now 
gradually becoming masters of the land. 

It so happened, therefore, that on the day when our story opens. 
King Vortigern had gathered his court about him in his capital city 
of London, there to hold a high festival, and in feasting and carous- 
ing to forget the disgrace of their surrender and the ills of the 
country. 

Suddenly, up to the castle gate, through the great portal, along 
the wide corridors, and into the very banquet-hall itself, never stop- 
ping to dismount, rode a breathless messenger. 

“To arms! Sir King, to arms!” he cried, waiting for no ceremony. 
“Pendragon and Uther have this day set sail from the coast of France 
with a mighty army, and they have sworn by a great oath to take your 
life as you took the life of their brother Constans!” 

Then the King remembered, and his face went ashen grey. He 
turned to one after another of the men who should have been his 
mighty warriors, and, reading in their flabby cheeks and lustreless eyes 
the story of their slothful living, knew that his cause was well-nigh 
lost before the fighting began. 

“Summon my messengers!” he was able to say at last, and when 
these were brought before him: 

“Ride! into every corner of my kingdom, ride! And call together 
the most skillful artificers, craftsmen and mechanics, for I have a 
great work for them to do.” 

Within a week the messengers on their fleet horses had scoured 


HE HAD FOUGHT VALIANTLY AGAINST THE ENEMIES 


MERLIN AND HIS PROPHECIES 3 


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4 


THE STORY OF KLXCx ARTHUR 


the land, so that there stood before the King a hundred of the best 
workmen that Britain could produce. 

“Now hear my command,” said he. “On the plain that lies 
furthest west in my kingdom build me a tower wdiose walls shall be 
so firm as to withstand all assault of catapult and battering-ram; and 
have it ready for my retreat within a hundred days, or your lives, to 
the last man, shall be forfeited.” 

The workmen left the presence of the King with fear in their 
hearts; but to such good purpose did they labor that within a few 
days there began to be visible upon the plain the jagged outlines of 
the. walls that were to enclose that mighty tower. Then the weary 
workmen, for the first time feeling assured that they could accomplish 
their task within the hundred days, lay down for the night and were 
soon fast asleep. 

With the first pale glimmer of dawn, however, they arose ready to 
return to their labors with renewed energy. But what a sight met their 
eyes! The tower lay in ruins! The walls had fallen during the 
night! 

Then with the strength of terror they fell upon their task once 
more. When the second morning came they turned their gaze half in 
hope and half in dread toward the scene of their labors, only to have 
their worst fears confirmed. Once again there lay before them but a 
heap of ruins! 

“We must use larger stones,” said one. 

“We have no time to talk,” put in a second. “If our lives are 
to be spared we must work as we never worked before.” 

So all through the long hours of the day they toiled in silence and 
in dread until the damage of the night had been repaired, only to find 
when morning came that, for the third time, their tower had crumbled 
to the ground. 

“This is enchantment!” they then cried in despair. “We cannot 
build the tower. Let us go and throw ourselves before the King to 
plead for mercy ! ” 

But when Vcrtigern, with his guilty conscience, heard that word 
enchantment,” a greater dread fell upon his heart. 

“Lead out these useless artificers,” he thundered, “and summon 
my wise men.” 

And presently the great doors of the throne-room were thrown 


MERLIN AND HIS PROPHECIES 


5 

open and, one by one, in solemn procession, trailing their black 
robes, the astrologers, the wizards and the magicians of the realm 
filed in, until they stood in a silent semi-circle before the King. 

At last Vortigern raised his eyes. 

“Tell me,” he said gloomily, “tell me, O my Wise Men, as you 
hold in your possession all the secrets of this world, and of other 
worlds unknown to ordinary mortals, tell me, I adjure you, why my 
tower of refuge will not stand.” 

He ceased, and a deep silence fell upon the room. Wizard turned 
to astrologer, and astrologer to magician, for each knew in his heart 
that he could give no answer to the question of the King. 

At last the oldest man present stepped forward and bowing low, 
began to speak in deep and solemn tones; 

“Your Majesty,” said he, “give us we pray you until tomorrow at 
high noon. This night shall the wizards work their spells and the 
astrologers consult the stars in their courses. Then shall we be able 
to tell you why your tower will not stand.” 

“Let it be so,” replied the King, “but also let it be well under- 
stood that if at high noon tomorrow you are still unable to answer, 
your lives shall pay the penalty, even as the lives of my workmen 
shall pay the penalty if they do not raise my tower within the hundred 
days. Fail me not, my Wise Men!” 

That night, far down in the deepest dungeons of the castle, the 
wizards gathered together about a steaming cauldron, vainly chanted 
their incantations and worked their magic spells, while on the highest 
battlements, the black-robed astrologers watched the stars from even- 
ing until morning; but when the day-star itself faded from their sight 
in the paling blue of dawn, they were no wiser than at the beginning 
of their vigil. 

“What shall we do.?” they cried to one another in consterna- 
tion when the two companies of watchers had met to report their 
failures. 

“Hush! Speak low!” whispered the Sage. “We must pretend: 
It is the only way to save ourselves. I have a plan.” 

And as they gathered about him he continued: 

“You all know the prophecy — that a child who never had mortal 
parents shall soon appear among us, and that he shall be able to read 
more in the stars than the wisest of our astrologers, that he shall be 


G 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


a greater magician than the greatest of us, and that through him we 
shall lose our power and pass away?” 

“Ah! yes, we have heard,” they answered, shaking their white 
heads mournfully. 

“That child,” continued the Sage, “is living somewhere in Britain 
at this very moment, and his name is Merlin. Let us tell the King 
that his tower, to make it stand, needs but the blood of this child 
sprinkled upon its foundations. So shall we by the same act save 
our lives and rid ourselves of one who otherwise will surely work us 
harm.” 

Then the Wise Men bowed their heads and answered : 

“You have spoken the words of wisdom.” 

So at high noon that day, when they were once more gathered 
about the throne, they gave their answer: 

“Seek, your Majesty,” said they, “a child named Merlin who 
never had mortal parents. Sprinkle his blood upon the foundations 
of your tower. Then will it stand until the end of time.” 

Thereupon the King summoned his messengers and gave the 
order: 

“Ride! into every town, village and hamlet of my kingdom, ride! 
And seek this child until you find him; but know that if he is not 
brought to me within ten days, your lives shall be forfeited, and not 
yours alone, but also the lives of my Wise Men for giving me useless 
knowledge, and the lives of my workmen for doing useless work ! Ride ! ” 

Then out from old London Town, north and south and east and 
west, up hill and down dale, over mountains and across rivers, rode 
the King’s messengers on their strange quest. One day, two days, 
three, four, five and six days, seven days, eight days; and when the 
ninth day came two of them found themselves far from home, riding 
through the street of a tiny hamlet. 

“What is the use of seeking further?” said one. “For my part 
I do not believe, for all the Wise Men say, that there ever was or ever 
could be such a child.” 

“I fear you are right,” replied his companion, “we may as well 
give up the search and flee for our lives.” 

As he spoke the last words, however, the men were obliged to 
draw rein lest their horses should trample upon a crowd of children who 
were quarreling in the narrow street. One urchin had just given 


MERLIN AND HIS PROPHECIES 


7 


another a sharp blow across the face, whereupon his victim was pro- 
ceeding to vent his rage in words that immediately arrested the atten- 
tion of the messengers. 

“How dare you strike me?” he was screaming at the top of his 
shrill little voice. “You who came nobody knows from where, and 
who never had a father or a mother!” 

In an instant one of the men had slipped from his horse. Then, 
having seized both boys, he drew them aside that he might question 
them. Very soon boys and men found themselves the centre of an 
interested group of villagers each one of whom seemed more anxious 
than his neighbor to give all the information that he happened to 
possess on the subject. 

“Yes, his name is Merlin,” said one, “and he was cast upon our 
shores by the waves of the sea.” 

“Not at all!” interrupted another. “He was brought to our vil- 
lage in the night by evil spirits.” 

And so it went, but the anxious messengers soon cut short their 
eloquence. 

“If your name is Merlin,” said they to the lad, “and you do not 
know who your father and mother are, you must come with us. It is 
the command of the King.” 

“I am quite willing,” replied the boy with unexpected meek- 
ness. 

“Perhaps he would not be so willing,” whispered one of the 
messengers under his breath to his companion, “if he knew why he 
is wanted.” 

“I hear what you say,” Merlin broke in, “and what is more, I 
know what you mean; but just the same, I am willing to go with you 
to King Vortigern. In fact I struck the boy knowing what he would 
say and what you would do; so jmu see I am not afraid.” 

On the tenth day after the departure of his couriers, the King sat 
alone in his audience chamber. Suddenly the great doors were swung 
wide, and a boy wearing the simple dress of a tiller of the soil ap- 
peared before him. 

“Your Majesty,” said he, “I am Merlin, the child who never 
had father or mother. You sent for me because your Wise Men have 
said that my blood is needed to make your strong tower stand. They 
have told you an untruth because they know nothing about the tower. 


8 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


and also because they are my enemies. I ask only that you call them 
together so that I can prove to you that what I say is so.” 

Then, at the astonished King’s command, the great bell of the 
castle was tolled, and presently the black-robed astrologers, wizards 
and magicians filed once again into the royal presence. 

“You may question my Wise Men now,” said the King to Merlin, 
“and save yourself if you can.” 

“Tell us, then, O Prophets of King Vortigern,” cried the boy, 
“what lies under the plain where the King has tried to build his 
tower.” 

Then the Wise Ones drew apart that they might take counsel 
together, and presently the Sage stepped before the King and said: 

“Your Majesty, we are now ready to give our answer. We who 
have the power to look deep into the bowels of the earth know well 
that beneath the plain where you have sought to build your tower, 
should you dig never so deep, you would find nothing but the good, 
brown soil of your Majesty’s kingdom.” 

At this Merlin smiled and shook his dark curls. 

“You tell us, then,” said the King. 

“Let your workmen dig,” replied the boy, “and beneath the 
plain they will find a deep pooh” 

And when the workmen had dug, they found, just as Merlin had 
prophesied — a deep, dark pool beneath the plain. 

Then cried the King: 

“My Wise Men have been put to shame by this mere lad. His 
life shall be spared; but they, for their deceit, shall be diiven in dis- 
grace from my kingdom.” 

But Merlin interposed, saying: 

“Not yet. Sir King, I ])ray you. Let us have another test that 
you may feel perfectly sure. Ask your Wise Men what lies under 
the pool that lay under the plain where you sought to build y )ur 
tower.” 

Again the Wise Ones talked together; and again because they 
knew not what else to say, they gave the same answer: 

“Sir King, you will find good, brown earth beneath the pool that 
lay beneath the plain where your Majesty sought to build his tower.” 

“No, Sir King,” said Merlin. “Beneath the pool you will find 
two great stones. Let your workmen drain the pool and see.” 


MERLIN AND HIS PROPHECIES 


9 


And when the pool was drained, there lay two immense boulders, 
just as Merlin had said. 

“Truly this is a marvelous child,” exclaimed Vortigern. “Away 
with my false prophets! From this time forth I will have no Wise 
Man but Merlin!” 

“Stay, your Majesty,” said Merlin. “Let there be one more 
test, then no question can ever arise in your mind. Ask your Wise 
Men what lies beneath the stones that lay beneath the pool that lay 
beneath the plain where you sought to build your tower.” 

But this time the Wise Ones were wise enough to hold their peace. 

“Very well,” said Merlin, “then I will tell you. Beneath the 
stones you will find two great dragons, one red, the other white. 
During the day these monsters sleep, but at night they awaken and 
fight; and it was because of their terrible underground battles that 
your tower could not be made to stand. The night following the 
raising of the stones they will fight for the last time; for the red dragon 
will kill the white one, and after that, O Mighty King, you may build 
your tower in peace.” 

Then the Wise Ones trembled, and silently they followed the King 
and Merlin across the plain to watch the fatal raising of the stones. 

When at last the mighty boulders had yielded to the combined 
strength of all the workmen, there, before the eyes of the crowds that 
had gathered, lay the two dragons — fast asleep. 

“Now send the people away,” said Merlin to the King, “but you 
and I must stay here and watch, for at midnight the dragons will fight 
their last battle.” 

And when the crowds had dispersed, and the Wise Men slunk 
away one by one, Vortigern and the boy Merlin sat alone together on 
the brink of the pool as the evening shadows fell. 

The air grew chill. Presently the moon arose, shedding its weird 
light upon the strange scene; and still the dragons slept on. Toward 
midnight Merlin leaned forward, and, lightly touching the King’s arm. 
whispered : 

“See! They are about to awaken. Make no noise ! ” 

Then slowly, and still drowsily, the great white dragon stirred and 
opened his hideous eyes, while along his whole scaly body there ran a 
shudder. This seemed to arouse the red monster from his dreams, for 
before King Vortigern could draw breath, the two terrible creatures 


10 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


had risen on their bat-like wings far above his head, and, with fire 
streaming from their nostrils, were gnashing upon each other with 
their fangs, and striking at each other with their ugly claws. 

For an hour or more the awful battle continued, sometimes far 
above their heads, and sometimes perilously near them on the earth; 
and it seemed to the King that neither would ever be able to gain an 
advantage — so well were they matched. After a while, however, the 
white beast began to show signs of weakening; and at last with a 
mighty crash, he fell to the ground — dead. Then the red dragon 
spread his wings, and with a strange hissing sound vanished into the 
shadow^s of the night, never to be seen again by mortal eyes. 

“Tell me,” said the King when he could find suflicient voice to 
speak, “Tell me, O wonderful boy that you are, wdiat do these strange 
things mean.?*” 

“I will tell you, O mighty King, without fear or favor,” replied 
Merlin, “although I know full w^ell that W'hat I have to say will not 
be at all to your liking. You may build your tow^er now% for there is 
nothing to hinder you; and you may shut yourself up within its strong 
walls. Nevertheless, Pendragon and Uther, the sons of King Con- 
stantine whose trust you betrayed, and the brothers of the young heir 
Constans whom you so cruelly murdered, have today landed on your 
shores with a mighty army. Forty days and forty nights shall the 
siege continue, and at the end of that time your tower shall be de- 
stroyed with every living soul within its walls. 

‘“Then shall reign in Britain first Pendragon and afterwards 
Uther; and all the days of their lives they shall w^ar against the Saxon 
whom you. Sir King, have brought to this land. The White Dragon 
stands for the Saxon, and the Red Dragon for the Briton. Long and 
deadly shall be the strife betw^een them, but in the fulness of time there 
shall be born to LTther a son whose name shall be called ARTHUR. 
He shall be the greatest king that these Islands are destined ever to 
know. He and his wonderful knights shall make war on the Saxon 
and drive him from the land. So shall the mischief of your reign be 
repaired — for a season.” 

Then the King, still clinging to the shadow of his former hope, 
hastened the building of his tower, and shut himself within its mighty 
walls. Nevertheless, within forty days after the beginning of the 
siege, having been driven back time and again, Pendragon and Uther, 


MERLIN AND HIS PROPHECIES 


11 


counselled by Merlin, threw burning brands over the ramparts, so 
that the tower took fire and burned with a mighty conflagration until 
all within had perished. 

Thus was Merlin’s prophecy concerning Vortigern fulfilled; and 


as for his other prophecies — that is 

GLOSSARY FOR 

1. Adjure, to charge or entreat solemnly. 

2. Artificer, one who works or constructs with 
skill. 3. Astrologer, one who reads, the sup- 
posed destinies of men in the stars. 4. Batter- 
ing-ram, a long beam, usually with a heavy 
head, used in making breaches in walls. 5. 
Boulder, a stone or rock. 6. Catapult, a mili- 
tary engine used for throwing stones. 7. 


another story. 

BEGINNERS 

Cauldron, a large kettle or boiler. 8. Hamlet, 
a small village. 9. Incantations, the saying or 
singing of magical words for enchantment. 
10. Over-lord, a king or chief who held author- 
ity over other lords. 11. Quest, a search. 
12. Realm, a kingdom. 13. Sage, a wise man. 
14. Vigil, a night watch. 15. Wizard, one 
having the power of magic; a male witch. 


II 


3'fow ^rtl)ur ^on 3'fis TKin 96 om 

“For many a petty king ere Arthur came 
Ruled in this isle, and ever waging war 
Each upon other, wasted all the land; 

And still from time to time the heathen host 
Swarm’d overseas, and harried what was left. 

And so there grew great tracts of wilderness. 

Wherein the beast was ever more and more. 

But man was less and less, till Arthur came.” 

Tennyson’s “Coming of Arthur.” 

“ ^^OW, my Lords, Vortigern the usurper is dead, and yqu must 
W / turn your attention to Hengist with his Saxon hordes; for 
^ ^ between his people and yours shall be the struggle for the 
possession of this fair land of Britain.” 

It was Merlin who spoke, and he stood in the throne room in the 
old castle of Constantine, before Pendragon and Uther, the exiled 
princes who had at last come into their own again. 

They looked at the child with curiosity mingled with awe, and 
presently Pendragon said: 

“You are a wonderful boy. Merlin, for by your counsel you have 
helped us to overthrow Vortigern. Now tell us, if you can, who shall 
be victorious in this struggle between Briton and Saxon.” 

“Come to the window,” Merlin replied, “and I will show you a 
strange sight.” Then, followed by the young princes, be crossed the 
hall, drew aside the heavy hangings of scarlet samite that shut out 
the cool night air, and, having done so, pointed to the starlit sky. 

“See!” said he, stepping back so as not to obstruct the view. 

The princes looked, and beheld a strange sight indeed; for in the 
heavens there blazed a comet of enormous size, whose dragon-shaped 
tail was like a cloud of fire, from the mouth of which shot forth two 


12 


HOW ARTHUR WON HIS KINGDOIM 


13 


long rays, one stretching away over the sunny land of France, the 
other ending in seven smaller rays over the Irish Sea. 

.“Tell us. Merlin, what do these things mean.?” they asked. 

“Hear, then, the interpretation,” replied Merlin. “On Salis- 
bury Plain there shall be a great battle fought, and the outcome is 
still uncertain. If you ask my aid, however, the British arms shall 
be victorious. Nevertheless, one of you, which one I may not tell, 
shall be slain, but the other shall become King of Britain. Then 
shall he that is King take his brother’s name and add it to his own, 
that the dead man’s memory may not perish from the earth. Further- 
more, he shall raise over his lost brother’s grave a monument that 
shall stand forever. The comet signifies the one who shall survive, 
and the rays over France and Ireland show that he shall have a son 
mightier than himself who shall hold sway over the lands that the rays 
cover. The name of that son shall be called ARTHUR, and he shall 
drive the heathen from the realm.” 

“Then, Merlin, you v/ill help us in this battle.?” asked both 
brothers together. 

“I wdll help you,” replied Merlin, “on one condition.” 

“What is that.?” they inquired. 

“That whichever one of you comes through victorious shall 
give me his first son on the day of his birth; for I must bring him up if 
he is to be fitted for his great part in life.” 

Then, because the battle seemed to them a thing so terribly 
near, and the birth of a son a thing so far in the future, they were 
willing enough to agree. * 

“Promise,” said Merlin, turning first to Pendragon. 

“I promise,” said the young man gravely. 

“Promise,” repeated the boy to Uther. 

And like his brother Uther answered, “I promise.” 

“Then I will give you my aid,” swore Merlin; and he kept his 
word, for on the day of that terrible battle the Saxons were driven 
from the field with great slaughter; but when the Britons returned 
from the pursuit to seek their wounded, they found Pendragon dead 
upon the plain with all his wounds in front. 

“He died as he lived, like a brave soldier,” said Uther. “And 
now, Merlin, tell me how I may keep my promise to raise to his mem- 
ory a monument that shall stand forever.” 


14 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“Forever is a long time; nevertheless,” counselled Merlin, 
“send to Ireland for the Giants’ Dance.” 

“And what may the Giants’ Dance be.^” inquired Uther. 

“A great circle of stones,” replied Merlin, “that the giants 
brought from Africa many years ago. Send for these stones, then 
you will have a monument that shall stand to the end of time.” 

So Uther sent great ships to Ireland, and with Merlin’s aid 
secured the magic stones and had them set up on Salisbury Plain 
in a great circle which the people called ever after “Stonehenge,” 
and there those same stones stand, or lie, to this very day. 

After that Uther caused two great golden dragons to be made in 
the likeness of the beast he had seen in the tail of the comet. One of 
these he gave to the Cathedral at Winchester, and the other he carried 
before him on his standard into all his battles. Then he added his 
brother’s name to his own, so that he was known ever after as Uther Pen- 
dragon — the “Dragon’s Head.” So he reigned in Britain in place 
of Vortigern the usurper, and fought against the Saxon, whom Vorti- 
gern had brought to the land, all the days of his life. 

Now it happened, when he had been king some years, that there 
came a time of great rejoicing in the realm, for at dusk on the Day 
of the Feast of Pentecost the old bell in the castle tower rang out a 
merry peal announcing to the people far and wide that a son had 
been born to King Uther Pendragon and his beautiful Queen Igerna. 
So there was joy in the palace and in all the country round, but Uther 
alone did not rejoice, for he remembered his promise to Merlin. 

When the shades of night had fallen, therefore, he took his tiny 
baby boy in his arms, held him for a moment so that Queen Igerna 
might press her white lips against his little cheek, then he himself 
dressed the child in rich cloth of gold as befitted a king’s son, and, 
having sworn them to secrecy, gave him to two brave knights and 
two fair ladies of the court with instructions to ask no questions, but 
deliver him to the care of an old man whom they would find waiting 
at the postern gate. 

The knights and ladies were greatly astonished at this seemingly 
unreasonable command; nevertheless, they dared not disobey the 
King, so they did as they were told, and sorrowfully stood at the 
gate as the strange old man disappeared with the royal child into the 
shadows of the night. Long afterwards, however, when their lips were 



HOW ARTHUR WON HIS KINGDOM 15 

unsealed, they told strange tales of a light that had shone about the 
baby’s head just before he was swallowed up in the darkness, and of 
fairy faces that had bent tenderly over his helpless form. 

So the longed-for heir was carried away on the very night of his 
birth from his father’s palace by Merlin — for the old man was he in 
his favorite disguise, and none knew, not even King Uther and Queen 


“SO THE LAND BECAME DESOLATE” 

Igerna, what had become of him. The people, however, believed that 
he was dead. 

Two years passed by during which time Uther fought many brave 
battles against the Saxons, but at last there came a day when he was 
brought home ill of a fatal malady, and there was great lamentation 
throughout the realm because he was leaving no heir to succeed him. 
For three days he had lain speechless, and at last his ministers called 
for Merlin and begged his help. 

“The King is so ill,” said they, “that he cannot make it known 


IG 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


whom he will have to reign in his stead when he is gone, and you know 
what that means, Merlin. All the mighty barons will struggle for 
the possession of the crown, and the land will be wasted through their 
strife. Tell us, O Man of Wisdom, what must we do.?” 

“Call these same mighty barons together,” said Merlin, “and 
before them all I will make him speak.” 

He vanished, but his command was obeyed; and when the great 
lords of the realm had gathered silently in the chamber of their dying 
monarch. Merlin suddenly reappeared in their midst. 

“Sir King,” said he, “as you are about to depart from your 
people, tell them, that all may hear, who shall reign in Britain when 
you are gone.?” 

Slowly the large eyes of Uther Pendragon opened, and he gazed 
first at Merlin, then at his barons many of whom were but waiting, 
as he knew well enough, until the breath had left his body before 
falling upon each other in a wild and lawless struggle for the crown. 
Then his tongue was loosed and speaking clearly and distinctly, that 
none might fail to understand, he said: 

“My own son Arthur shall reign in Britain after me. He shall 
be a greater and nobler king than I have been, and he shall drive the 
Saxon from the land.” 

“The King’s mind wanders,” said the people. But Uther did 
not hear them, for, having spoken, he turned his face to the wall and 
died; and when they looked about for Merlin, strange to say, he too 
had disappeared. 

Then followed the saddest years that the country of Britain had 
ever known. There was no longer any law in the land, for each mighty 
baron was little more than a robber to steal from those of his own rank, 
and guarding tlie interests of the poor peasants dependent upon him 
as the wolf guards the flock. Furthermore, each gathered his forces 
together and tried by the power of his might, which was the only 
right then respected, to seize the crown. So the land became desolate, 
the dreaded Saxon made his raids unmolested, the grain fields were 
trampled, houses were burned, and strong men were thrown into 
prison for debt while their wives and children starved. 

Thus fifteen years passed away, and the people in their misery cried : 

“Woe to the fair land of Britain! Oh! that Uther had left us a 
son whose strong arm would have kept order in the realm!” 


HOW ARTHUR WON HIS KINGDOAI 17 



“GREY FAMINE STALKED ABROAD”* 

*Burne-Jones, Henderson Collection, Manchester 
[Ccurtesy of Braun d Cie.] 



18 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Yet all the time Merlin kept himself hidden away, so that none 
had seen him since the hour of the King’s death. 

There came at last a winter when the snow fell early and lay deep 
upon the ground, and grey Famine stalked abroad throughout the 
country side. Then Brice, the good Archbishop of Canterbury, 
burdened with the misery of his people, withdrew himself for a season 
of fasting and prayer. One morning, as he was bringing a long night 
watch to a close, he turned and saw standing before him in the dim 
light an old man with a flowing white beard. 

“Merlin, Merlin at last!” he cried in joy. “Where have you 
kept yourself these fifteen long years while the land of Uther has been 
desolate.^” 

“That I may not tell you,” replied Merlin, and the sound of his 
voice gladdened the heart of the Holy Man. “That I may not tell 
you, and you must not ask; but now I am here, and I am come to help 
you in your great need.” 

“Then tell me,” said the Archbishop, “where I may find a man 
with a hand firm enough to rule over these robber barons, yet with a 
heart of mercy that will cause him to deal justly with rich and poor 
alike.” 

“Such. a man there surely is,” and Merlin looked wiser than ever, 
“but you must find him for yourself, otherwise he would not be 
received.” 

“Alas! I have sought him in vain these fifteen years,” replied the 
good man sadly. “If he can be found, give us your aid. Merlin, and 
do not deceive me, for my people are perishing.” 

“Listen well to my advice, then,” warned Merlin. “Call together 
the lords of the realm, and bid them come to London to keep the 
Christmas feast — at that time shall a miracle be wrought to show who 
is the rightful king.” 

Then the messengers rode forth, north and south and east and 
west, so that the great men were gathered togetlier on Christmas 
Eve that they might spend the Holy Night confessing their sins before 
hearing mass at break of day; and when all was over, and the pale 
streaks of dawn were appearing in the wintry sky, a strange sight 
met their eyes: In the churchyard, against the high altar, stood a 
great stone four feet square. Upon the stone was set an anvil of 
steel one foot high, and into the anvil was thrust a sword of 


HOW ARTHUR WON HIS KINGDOM 


19 


curious workmanship upon whose bejewelled hilt were engraved 
these words: 

‘WHOSO PULLETH OUT THIS SWORD OF THIS STONE AND ANVIL. 

IS RIGHTWISE KING BORN OF ALL ENGLAND." 

At that sight a thrill of joy shot through the heart of every man 
present. Each robber baron thought to himself: “Now is my chance 
to show that I am best fitted to wield the sceptre of Uther Pendragon.” 
But the lips of the good Archbishop moved in a prayer of thankfulness: 

“Praise God, the miracle!” he murmured reverently. Then in a 
clear, ringing voice he gave the command: 

“Arrange j^ourselves, my Lords, in the order of your rank — 
tributary king, duke, earl, count, baron, and simple knight, then be- 
ginning at the highest let each come forward to try this adventure of 
the sword.” 

So they came, those mighty men of a hundred battles, Uther’s 
warriors tested and tried; and each in turn tugged with all his might 
upon the jewelled hilt of the sword, but never did it stir by a hair’s 
breadth for the mightiest of them. And when the most lowly knight 
had proved himself as powerless as the most haughty tributary king, 
the Archbishop turned to the amazed company, saying: 

“My Lords, I see that this is a question of purity of heart as well 
as of strength of muscle, and I fear the best knight of the realm is 
not, after all, among us to-day. Therefore there must be another 
trial. I will, then appoint Twelfth Day for this second test. See to 
it that the news is spread abroad so that every gentleman of arms of 
whatever rank shall be present without fail.” 

Now it was the custom of those times, whenever knights were 
gathered together in large numbers, to hold tournaments, which were 
in reality sham battles. So it happened that while the Lords remained 
in London awaiting the second trial of the sword, they decided to amuse 
themselves in true knightly fashion by holding such a tournament 
on New Year’s Day in the fields outside the town. And truly, a great 
sight it was — that gathering of gentlemen of arms, with their glittering 
armor, flashing swords, streaming banners, and prancing horses — 
well worth the enthusiasm of the great crowd of commoners that had 
gathered to see them. 

A great sight indeed, and not one that either noble or commoner 


20 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


would willingly miss. All along the King’s highway, therefore, that 
first crisp winter’s morning of the New Year rode one of the few true 
hearted knights still left in Britain — Sir Ector the Upright, accom- 
panied by his newly-knighted son Sir Kay, and with them, because 
he had begged to be permitted to see the tourney, rode a younger son, 
Arthur, a lad of seventeen who acted as his brother’s squire. This 
fair-haired, blue-eyed boy watched eagerly the gathering of the knights, 
and felt his heart thrill within him at the thought that some day, if 
he performed his present humble duties as well as lay in his power, he 
too might hope to receive the order of knighthood. 

As the three neared the lists Sir Kay suddenly made a distressing 
disco very^ — he had left his sword at home! Turning quickly to Arthur, 
therefore, and speaking none too gently — as is the way at times with 
big brothers, he said: 

“Ride back, boy, and get my sword; and see to it that you hurry 
too, so that I need not miss any of the jousts.” 

Now Arthur was longing to see all that there was to be seen; 
moreover, like the spirited boy he w^as, he resented his brother’s tone 
of command. Then he remembered that only a good squire could 
ever hope to become a worthy knight, so he answered meekly enough : 

“Certainly I will go, Kay,” and away he went without a murmur. 

When he reached his home, however, what was his distress to 
find the drawbridge raised, and every door and window barred and 
bolted; for the servants, taking advantage of their master’s absence, 
had deserted their posts and gone to mingle with the crowd at the 
tournament. 

“Alas! I cannot cross the moat, and I could not break in if I 
did,” he cried in dismay. So he turned and rode back to London sad 
because he must fail in even so humble a quest. 

Now it happened that his way lay past the churchyard, and it 
also happened that because of his youth and insignificance no one had 
thought it worth while to tell him about the mystic sword in the anvil. 
When he rode past, therefore, and saw an unused weapon it occurred 
to him that it would do no harm to borrow it for the day, that his 
brother need not be without a sword. 

So he slipped from his horse, stepped inside the enclosure, and 
looked about for some one whose permission he might ask. But the 
church was as deserted as his own castle had been. At last, seeing 


now ARTHUR WON HIS KINGDOM 


21 


no other way out of the difficulty, he lightly took the sword by the 
hilt, and, never stopping to read the words engraved upon it, drew it 
forth from the anvil as easily as he might have drawn the play-sword 
of his childhood, long since discarded, from its tiny scabbard. Then 
gladly he spurred his horse that he might the sooner deliver the weapon 
into his brother’s hand. 



“THE KNIGHT’S VIGIL”* 

* Tlie Vig‘1, Petlie, Tate Gallery, London. [Cou,7iesj of Braun ct Cie.] 


But when Sir Kay saw that bejewelled hilt, a dull red flush suf- 
fused his cheek, and a strange sparkle leapt into his eyes. 

“Where did you get this, Arthur.?*” he whispered eagerly, drawing 
the boy aside that none might overhear the conversation. 

“In the churchyard,” replied Arthur innocently. “I will take 
it back as soon as you have finished with it, Kay, so there is no harm 
done, is there.?*” 

“There is no harm done yet if you were not seen and can keep 
silent,” said Kay mysteriously. “Hush! don’t speak of it to anyone.” 



22 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Then he rode away, leaving his young brother awed and full of fear 
lest he had done some wicked deed. 

Kay, however, lost no time in seeking his father, before whom 
he triumphantly displayed the weapon, crying; 

“See, Father, I, your son, have drawn the sword from the anvil; 
therefore I am the rightful King of Britain!” 

But the good Sir Ector, after looking first at the sword and then 
at Kay, laid his hand on the young man’s shoulder and said gravely : 

“Kay, Kay, tell me the truth, by the honor of your knighthood, 
how came you by that sword.^” 

Then Kay, whose eyes could not meet his father’s, hung his head 
in shame and answered: 

“My brother Arthur brought it to me.” 

“Send the boy here,” commanded Sir Ector; and when Arthur 
stood before him he asked more gravely than ever: 

“Arthur, how did you come by this sword.?” 

And the lad, though now quite convinced that he had unwittingly 
done some great wrong, looked up into his father’s face and answered 
bravely: 

“I drew it from the anvil that stands on the stone in the church- 
yard. If it was not right. Father, I am sorry.” 

“Arthur,” said Sir Ector, and now his voice was stern, “Tell me 
the truth, as you hope one day to become a brave and honorable knight, 
where did you find this sword?” 

Again Arthur looked up into his father’s face, repeating his former 
words; then Sir Ector could doubt no longer. 

“Come with me to the good Archbishop,” said he, “that we 
may tell him the whole story.” 

When the Archbishop had heard all, he said gravely: 

“Put the sword back into the anvil, my boy, and let it remain 
there until Twelfth Day. If you can pull it out then, before all the 
lords of the realm after they have tried for the second time and failed, 
then, young as you are, we shall know that our prayers have been 
answered, and that God himself has given us a King.” 

So on Twelfth Day the nobles were again assembled, and when 
mass had been said the trial began for a second time. But just as 
before, tributary king, duke, earl, count, baron and simple knight 
each came forward in his turn and tugged and pulled with all his might 


HOW ARTHUR WON HIS KINGDOM 


23 


— in vain. Then, when the last knight had turned away defeated, the 
voice of the Archbishop was heard above the tumult; 

“Stay yet a while, my Lords,” said he, “there is still another to 
make the trial.” 

They halted, and to the scornful amazement of all, out from an 
obscure corner stepped a lad in the simple dress of a squire. Modestly, 
with flushed cheeks and lowered eyelids, he passed through their 
midst straight up to the great stone, and, with no effort, using but one 
hand, drew the glittering sword from its firm seat in the anvil! 

For a moment a deep hush fell upon the company; then there 
began to be heard an angry murmur like the rumble of a fast-approach- 
ing storm. 

“Who is this boy.?” one knight was asking another. “The son 
of Sir Ector iii whose veins there runs no noble blood,” came the 
answer from one or two. “Away with him, then, away with him!” 
they all cried together. “Miracle or no miracle, we will not have this 
beardless boy to reign over us!” 

The good Archbishop, with the exception of Sir Ector, was the 
only one that had been truly glad; but now, as he looked down upon 
that sea of angry faces, the words that were about to proclaim Arthur 
king died on his lips, for he feared lest these men should fall upon the 
child and take his life. Suddenly, invisible to all others. Merlin stood 
once again at the Holy Man’s side. 

“Tell them,” said he, “to return .to their homes and to gather 
again on Candlemas Day for a third trial.” 

So the angry multitude was safely dispersed. 

But on Candlemas Day the same scene was re-enacted, and so 
again at Easter; but still the lords would not submit. Then Merlin 
said to the Holy Man: 

“Tell them that there will be one last and final test at the Feast 
of Pentecost. That at that time they must bring together all their 
mighty men, all the flower of their knighthood, and that he that 
draws the sword on that day is without further question King of 
Britain.” 

So at that Feast of Pentecost, more than fifteen years after the 
death of Uther Pendragon, the mighty men of the realm were once 
again gathered together in old London Town. Then for the fifth 
time, with might and main they made the trial of the sword — without 


24 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


success; but when, for the fourth time, before them all, the boy Arthur 
had lightly drawn it from the anvil. Merlin appeared to the whole 
company standing at the lad’s side. 

“My Lords of Britain,” said he, “you have sought to reject this 
boy because you thought him not of roj^al blood. Sir Ector, tell us, 
is he your son.^” 

Then, to the amazement of all, Sir Ector the Upright whose word 
none could doubt, answered simply : 

“He is not, though I have loved and cherished him as my own since 
the day you brought him to me. Merlin, a baby but a few hours old.” 

“Now hear the truth,” continued Merlin. “Your King, Uther 
Pendragon, was not wandering in his mind when he spoke those 
words on his deathbed. Eighteen years ago today there was born 
to King Uther and his Queen the beautiful Igerna a son. That child, 
that he might be kept safe during the helpless years of his infancy and 
that he might be made fit to rule in justice and in mercy over this 
troubled land, was delivered to me at the postern gate. I took him to 
Sir Ector, the most upright knight among you, with strict instructions 
tl'iat he be kept in ignorance of his birth.” 

Then Merlin, taking the boy’s hand, led him forth where he might 
be seen not only by the nobles, but also by the crowd of commoners 
that had gathered to see the outcome; and with a loud voice he cried: 

“People of Britain, behold your King! Arthur, son of Uther 
Pendragon, the Child of Prophecy, he that shall restore peace and drive 
the heathen from the realm!” 

Then, like a deep roar, from a thousand throats came the glad 
response : 

“Long live Arthur! Long live the King!” 


GLOSSARY 2 


1. Commoner, one not of the nobility. 2. 
Drawbridge, a bridge that ean be raised or low- 
ered. 3. Hilt, the handle of a sword. 4. Joust, 
a tilt between two knights. 5. Lists, the field 
where tournaments took place. 6. Moat, a 
ditch around a castle. 7. Quest, a search. 8. 
Samite, a cloth like satin, 9. Squire, one who 
waited upon a knight. 10. Standard, a flag or 
banner. 11. Tournament, Tourney, a tilt be- 


tw(*en knights on horseback. 12. Tributary 
King, one who paid a tax. 

1 . Candlemas Day, February 2, the day when 
the candles were to be blessed. 2. Archbishop 
of Canterbury, the head of the Church of 
England. 3. Pentecost, the fiftieth day, and 
the seventh Sunday after Easter (sometimes 
called Whitsunday.) 4. Twelfth Day, the 
twelfth day after Christmas. 


Ill 


3*fow ^rtl)ur 3*fis Swor6 

‘‘HExcaUbur/’ Hfis !^ri6e and Hiis ^our 6 I5able 


“But Arthur, looking downward as he passed, 

Felt the light of her eyes into his life 
Smite on the sudden.” 

Tennyson’s “Coming of Arthur.” 


HE commoners had indeed shouted joyfully, “Long live the 
^ J King!” and many of the nobles also had been glad to see the 
end of the long struggle for the crown; but there were others, 
strong and mighty warriors, who were not yet willing to submit to the 
rule of a “beardless boy.” The first year of Arthur’s reign, therefore, 
was a turbulent one; for, between the rebellion of his own subjects on 
the one hand, and the raids of the Saxons on the other, he scarcely 
knew what it was to lay aside his armor for so much as a single day. 

Gradually, however, the young King’s bravery and nobility of 
character began to call forth the respect of those who were watching 
his career, so that one by one the knights of his realm, conquered 
either by force of arms or better still by admiration, came to pay him 
homage; and very soon even those robber barons found themselves 
being transformed under the chivalric influences that prevailed at 
that court. 

Soon after his coronation Arthur appointed his officers. At the 
request of the good Sir Ector, whom the young King would always re- 
gard as a father, he appointed his foster brother. Sir Kay, seneschal 
of all Britain. Then he remembered old friends of his real father, 
Uther Pendragon, and made Sir Baldwin constable. Sir Ulfius cham- 
berlain, and Sir Brastias warden of the country north of the River 
Trent. 

This done, he fought twelve great battles to bring into subjec- 
tion the tributary kings who still held out against him. Then he 

25 


20 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 



felt that Ills realm was in about 
as good order as he could well 
expect it to be in those wild and 
lawless times. 

In all these battles the sword 
that he had drawn from the anvil 
served him well, but strange to 
say one day when he was jousting 
with a single knight the latter’s 
stronger weapon cut Arthur’s 
sword in two, leaving the young 
King defenseless, so that he was 
severely wounded and would 
probably have been killed had it 
not been for Merlin, who bore 
him away to a hermitage where 
he lay ill for three days. During 
that time, however, it was not so 
much by his suffering that he was 
troubled as by the discovery of 
the loss of his sword; but when 
he made his anxiety known to 
Merlin, the AVise Man merely 
smiled one of those mysterious 
smiles of his and said: 

“That, Sir King, is perhaps 
the best thing that ever hap- 
pened to you. As soon as you 
are strong enough to wield it you 
shall have a far better weapon, I 

“SIR ECTOR’ * nroniise von ” 

•The Knight, Corot [CouHesj Braun el Cie.\ piOIIUSe^OU. 

By the third day, therefore, 
no entreaties could prevail upon him to remain under the care of the 
kindly hermit any longer. 

“I must be up and away to find that sword,” said he. So Merlin 
answered: “Very well. Follow me.” 

Then off they rode up hill and down dale through a strange and 
wonderful country, until at last they came to the shores of a broad 



HOW ARTHUR WON HIS SWORD 


27 



and beautiful lake over which a fairy veil of light morning mist was 
still hanging. They drew rein in silence and watched the sun gradually 
rise from behind the distant hill tops. Presently, under the gentle 
warmth, the mist began to lift, so that very soon the waters lay before 
them, clear as crystal and shimmering in the glorious morning light. 
Then a strange thing happened. Up from the bosom of the lake rose 
an arm clothed in white samite 
in whose hand was clasped a 
sword and scabbard, and the hilt 
of that sword was ten times more 
beautiful and twinkled with far 
richer jewels than the weapon 
whose loss Arthur was mourning. 

“How I wish it were mine,” 
he whispered to Merlin tremu- 
lously. 

“Hush,” was the only reply, 

“Look toward the other side of 
the lake.” Arthur obeyed, and 
saw gliding toward them what 
at first appeared to be a column 
of white mist not yet dispelled 
by the sun’s rays, but which 
gradually resolved itself into the 
form of a beautiful maiden whose 
feet skimmed the waves as lightly 
as if they had been the floating 
petals of a pond lily. 

“That,” Merlin whispered, “is the Lady of the Lake. When she 
comes near ask her for the sword, for it is hers and belongs to her 
wonderful palace under the water.” 

Arthur then leaped from his horse, and stepping to the very 
brink of the waves, bowed low, saying: 

“Fair Damsel, you see before you a knight who has been so unfor- 
tunate as to lose his sword. If you will give me yours I will promise you 
to do all in my power to make this land so safe that no maiden will ever 
after need to own a weapon, for there will be enough brave and chival- 
rous knights to fight the battles of all the weak and the oppressed.” 


"THE MIST RESOLVED ITSELF INTO A 
BEAUTIFUL MAIDEN”* 

*Beata Beatrix, Rosetti, Tate [Courtesy Braun el Cie.] 



28 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“You may have the sword, King Arthur,” replied the Lady, “to 
do with as you have promised. Take the barge that you will find 
hidden in yonder rushes, and row out to claim it. It is yours to 
use for many years to come.” 

Having said this the form of the maiden grew more and more 
mist-like and ethereal until finally Arthur’s wondering eyes could no 
longer distinguish the faintest trace of her. Then he and Merlin 
rowed out to the middle of the lake, and Arthur, almost fearing to 
see it vanish too, firmly grasped the sword, whereupon the arm 
clothed in white samite was immediately withdrawn, and the waters 
closed over it. 

The moment that the weapon touched the young King’s hand, a 
strange thrill seemed to pass through his whole being and he felt 
within himself the strength of ten men. Curiously he drew it from its 
scabbard, and saw the blade flash in the sunlight so that he was 
almost blinded. Merlin, meanwhile, had been watching him with 
interest, and now he put a strange question to him: 

“Which would you rather have,” said he, “the sword or the 
scabbard.^ ” 

Then Arthur, brave knight that he was, answered almost scorn- 
fully: “What a question. Merlin! The sword to be sure. It is the 
most wonderful thing I have ever seen. When I hold it in my hand I 
feel that no enemy could ever again prevail against me.” 

“It is a wonderful weapon, indeed,” replied Merlin gravely. 
“The name of it is Excalibur, which is to say ‘ Cut-Steel,’ and it is given 
to you whom men will call the White King that you may fight, not to 
win glory for yourself, but to right the wrongs of the weak and the 
oppressed as you have promised, and that you may drive the heathen 
from the land. Yes, it is a wonderful sword, but the scabbard is more 
wonderful still; for while it is in your possession you can never be 
killed in battle, and though you may be wounded your wounds will 
never bleed and you will lose no strength. Guard it well.” 

They were silent for a while as Merlin rowed back to shore, and 
Arthur stood lost in thought examining his treasure. 

“See,” said he at last, “on each side of the blade there is an in- 
scription in a foreign tongue. Can you read them for me. Merlin.?^” 

“The words are ancient Hebrew,” was the reply. “One side says 
‘Take me’ and the other says ‘Cast me away.’” 


HOW ARTHUR WON HIS SWORD 


29 


“Then which ought I to do?” asked Arthur, puzzled. 

“Take it and strike,” was the firm answer. “The time to cast it 
away will come, but it is still far distant. Yes, take the sword and 
strike with all your might.” 

Now it happened that not long after his adventure Arthur 
had an opportunity of testing the powers of this wonderful 
Excalibur. 

As he sat in his throne room one day in his castle at Camelot two 
messengers arrived and were ushered into his presence. 

“We come,” said they, “from King Leodogran of Cameliard who 
pays tribute to you, as he paid it to your royal father Uther Pendragon. 
Our King is aged and his knights, too, are well advanced in years, so 
that they can no longer fight as in the days of old; and now our king- 
dom is threatened by one Rience, King of North Wales, for he has 
sent a message to our master saying that he has in preparation a 
mantle whose only trimming shall be the beards of kings. Eleven of 
these beards he has already, but he needs one more, and he insolently 
demands that our good Master send him his, otherwise he says he 
will come and take it, along with the head to which it belongs. There- 
fore have we come to you, O young White King of the noble heart and 
mighty arm, because you have made it known that you ever stand 
ready to render aid to the weak and the oppressed.” 

At these words Arthur’s heart leaped within him, so glad was he 
of this opportunity of using Excalibur in another’s cause. Then he 
looked about among his knights and saw the fire of his own enthusiasm 
leap into the eyes of first one and then another. The next moment the 
whole room presented the appearance of a forest of glittering swords, 
for every weapon had been drawn from its seabbard and was being 
pointed upward as a sign that its owner was ready to follow his Liege 
Lord into battle, while a cry arose from all as from one man, “The 
quest. Sir King!” 

In an incredibly short time the army was on the march northward 
through the deep snows, for it was winter; nevertheless, it so happened 
that, by Merlin’s aid, it reached Cameliard even before the return of 
the messengers whom Leodogran had sent. Strangely unwearied by 
the journey, it arrived at the gate of the city one evening when the 
sun was sinking in the west, and found, as was but natural in time of 
war, that all was tightly closed. 


30 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“Ride straight on,” said Merlin, “as if there were no obstacle in 
your way, and you will find no diflSculty.” 

And so it was, for when Arthur’s horse came abreast the 
gates swung wide, and the whole army passed through and 
started on its way to the castle where Leodogran was holding a council 
of war. 

The young King’s intentions were so good that he had scarcely 
realized what the effect of such an entrance into the town would be 
upon the people. Now, however, he saw them come trooping from 
their homes to stand in the*streets, silent with amazement and pale 
with fear, while every roof was crowded with terrified women and 
children, even to the battlements of the palace itself where some of the 
ladies of the court, having heard a rumor of strange happenings, had 
climbed and were looking down upon the invading host. 

It was at this moment that Arthur chanced to raise his eyes, and 
what he saw was a vision that never faded for him through all the 
days of his life. This was the face of a girl, the glory of whose golden 
hair was lighted by the setting sun, so that it appeared to the young 
man like the halo of a saint. 

‘Who is that. Merlin?” he asked breathlessly. 

“That,” replied the Wise One whose gaze did not even have to 
follow Arthur’s to learn of whom he spoke, “That is the Princess 
Guinevere, the only daughter of Leodogran and cherished by him as 
the apple of his eye.” 

The young man said no more, but at that moment he made a 
mighty resolve to fight in the cause of the old King as he had never 
fought before; and he suddenly felt his arm strengthened as it had 
not been even by that first touch of Excalibur. 

He, Merlin, and a few of the chief nobles now passed into the 
council chamber where the news of their sudden and mysterious 
arrival had created even more terror than their march through the 
streets. It was Arthur’s plan to keep his identity a secret until after 
the battle, and this was an easy matter, for Leodogran could not 
imagine it possible that aid could have reached him from Camelot so 
soon; but it proved a harder matter to make the old King feel that 
he could trust these strangers. No one could ever look long into 
Arthur’s face, however, without coming to believe in his truth and 
sincerity; so before the council closed it was arranged that Leodogran, 


HOW ARTHUR WON HIS SWORD 


31 


while awaiting the return of his messengers, should accept the help 
of these strange visitors. 

The next morning, therefore, the two armies were on the march 
towards the plain just outside the city walls where Rience, himself a 
man twice the size of ordinary men, was encamped with his giant 
knights. 

Merlin bore before his sovereign the mystic standard with the 
golden dragon that had belonged 
to Uther Pendragon, but which, 
now that it was Arthur’s ensign, 
was beginning to show more won- 
derful qualities than ever; for, as 
the battle waxed hotter and 
hotter, it seemed that the dragon 
was spouting fire from his nostrils, 
so that the young King’s position 
was easily distinguished by the 
anxious spectators on the city 
walls, and especially by the ladies 
on the battlements of the castle, 
among whom was the Princess 
Guinevere. 

All day long the battle raged, 
but wherever Arthur appeared 
with the strange standard, the 
enemies, giants though they were, 
either fled terror stricken or fell 
lifeless under the mighty strokes 
of Excalibur, until gradually they 
were driven farther and farther from the walls, and it seemed that 
the victory was well-nigh in sight. Then a terrible thing happened. 

Leodogran, exhausted by the struggle, but feeling secure in his 
young champion’s strength, had withdrawn himself to a quieter part 
of the field. This, however, was the very opportunity for which 
Rience had been waiting. Leaving Arthur, therefore, still in the 
thick of the fight, he and a dozen or more of his knights wheeled their 
horses about and bore down upon the old King with the intention of 
dragging him off a prisoner. To the Princess from her point of vantage 



“FIRE SPOUTED FROM THE DRAGON’S 
NOSTRILS”* 

*St. Michael [Courtesy Braun et Cie.] 




32 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


on the tower it seemed that her father was now lost indeed, and she 
had almost fainted in despair when she saw the young stranger stop 
fighting, disentangle himself from the fray, and speed across the plain. 
There he charged with such a mighty shock against the giants that 
were bearing Leodogran away that they dropped their prisoner and 
fled for their lives. A moment later the whole army of Rience was 
in confused retreat, with Arthur and his knights in pursuit. 

Thus the day was won for King Leodogran ; and that evening at 
the feast that was made for the victors, the beautiful Princess, to 
show her gratitude, served the valiant young stranger with her own 
fair hands, and thanked him simply and modestly for saving her 
father’s life. 

That night, if ever in his life, Arthur had expected to sleep 
soundly, but he found to his surprise that even the weariness of his 
body was not sufficient to overcome this strange new agitation of his 
heart. At dawn, therefore, he arose and sought the counsel of 
Merlin. 

“Merlin,” said he, trying to pretend that it was a matter of state 
that had been disturbing his rest. “My Lords have long advised me 
to take a wife. What have you to say on this subject.^” 

“Is there any damsel in particular that you have in mind.^” asked 
the Wise Man, endeavoring to look very sober. 

“Yes,” said Arthur, “the Princess Guinevere is the fairest maiden 
in all the world, as any man with eyes can see. If I might win her for 
my bride I should be the happiest man on earth.” 

“And if I were to counsel you not to try to win her, would that 
make any difference?” asked Merlin quietly. 

“Not the slightest,” was the firm reply. 

“Then, why are you asking my advice?” and the Wise One smiled. 

“I do not ask it. Merlin,” admitted Arthur. “This is a matter 
that I settle for myself; but I do beseech you to go to King Leodogran 
for me and ask for his daughter’s hand.” 

“I may have to make your identity known,” said Merlin. 

“That you have my permission to do, if necessary,” Arthur 
agreed. 

A little later in the day, therefore, when King Leodogran and his 
ministers were assembled in the throne room. Merlin came before them 
and made a formal request for the hand of the Princess in the name 


now ARTHUR WON HIS SWORD 


33 


of his young master. When he had finished speaking a deep silence 
fell upon the room. Presently the old King began to speak: 

“\our master,” said he, “is a brave knight and a valiant gentle- 
man. Into the care of such a one would I gladly give the Jewel of my 
court. Moreover, my debt of gratitude to him is greater than I can 
ever repay. And yet — and yet — ” 

“And yet what?” inquired Merlin. 

“My child is the daughter of a long line of kings, therefore it is 
not fitting that I should bestow her hand upon one whose rank is not 
equal to her own; and yet — and yet — ” 

Then the Wise Man smiled. 

“Have you any idea, my Lord,” said he, “who the young knight 
is who fought so valiantly in your cause?” 

“No,” replied Leodogran, “he seemed unwilling to tell me, so by 
the laws of courtesy I was bound to ask no questions.” 

“Then, Sir King, let me inform you,” and Merlin’s voice rang 
out clear and strong, “that he is Arthur himself, your Liege Lord, 
who by my aid was able to reach you even before the return of your 
own messengers.” 

“And you are Merlin!” cried the old King in joy. “You are 
welcome at my court, O Wise Man, as welcome as the news that you 
bring me; for, what greater happiness could come to me in my old 
age than that Arthur, the son of my friend and overlord Uther Pen- 
dragon, should seek my daughter in marriage. You and he are wel- 
come, indeed!” 

The following day, therefore, when Arthur and his army 
set out on their homeward journey, he and the Princess were 
already betrothed; and it was all arranged that, when the 
winter snows had melted, making it fit for her to travel, he would 
send for her that they might be married in his own capital city of 
Camelot. 

So Arthur returned to his own land and fought many a brave 
battle with his strong arm and Excalibur, while he waited impatiently 
for the first signs of spring. At last, however, the sun began to take 
on a new warmth, the snow gradually disappeared from hillside and 
plain, and a tender emerald haze silently enveloped the landscape. 
Then Arthur called to his side a young knight lately come to his court — 
Launcelot of the Lake by name — between whom and the King there 


34 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


existed the tenderest bond of friendship based upon mutual admir- 
ation. 

“Launcelot,” said he, “I am a king, the servant of my people; 
therefore, I cannot as other men leave my post of duty to seek my 
bride. Go, then, for me, my most trusted friend; take Merlin with 
you lest you should need his aid, and bring me the beautiful Princess 
Guinevere.” 

So the embassy set out through the soft April green, and returned 
when the woods were white with IMay. Southward toward the city 
of Camelot at Launcelot’s side rode Guinevere, the Flower-of-the-May, 
seated on a cream-white mule, and wearing a gown of grass-green silk 
fastened with a golden clasp. 

When they neared the mystic city upon whose gates Arthur’s 
wars were prophetically rendered, the young King himself rode out 
to meet his bride; and the next day they were married in the church at 
Camelot, the holy Archbishop himself pronouncing the words that 
bound them together for life. 

As they turned from the altar and passed homeward through the 
streets of the city which the little children had strewn with flowers 
they were met by a band of white-garbed knights who blew upon 
golden trumpets and joyfully sang: 


“‘Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May! 

Blow trumpet, the long night hath roll’d away! 

Blow through the living world — “Let the King reign!” 

“‘Shall Rome or Heathen rule in Arthur's reahn.^ 

Flash brand and lance, fall battle-ax on helm. 

Fall battle-ax, and flash brand! Let the King reign! 

“‘Strike for the King and live! His knights have heard 
That God hath told the King a secret word. 

Fall battle-ax, and flash brand! Let the King reign! 

“‘Blow trumpet! he will lift us from the dust. 

Blow trumpet! live the strength and die the lust! 
Clang battle-ax, and clash brand! Let the King reign! 


HOW ARTHUR WON HIS SWORD 


35 



THE ARCHBISHOP 


[Couriesy Braun et Cie. ] 



THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


3G 


“‘Strike for the King and die! and if thou diest, 

The King is king, and ever wills the highest. 

Clang battle-ax, and clash brand! Let the King reign! 

“‘Blow, for our Sun is mighty in his May! 

Blow, for our Sun is mightier day by day! 

Clang battle-ax, and clash brand! Let the King reign! 

“‘The King will follow Christ, and we the King, 

In whom high God hath breathed a secret thing. 

Fall battle-ax, and flash brand! Let the King reign!”’ 

Such were the glories of Arthur’s wedding day. Yet, these were 
not all. There remained yet a greater wonder. As the young King 
with his bride entered the chamber where the banquet was spread, a 
strange sight met his eyes: In the centre of the room stood an immense 
round table of rare workmanship. 

“What is that. Merlin.^” he inquired surprised, “and why is it 
here.f^” 

“That,” replied the Wise Man, “is a mystic table that I myself 
made many years ago for your father, Uther Pendragon. It comes to 
you now as a wedding gift from King Leodogran, in whose keeping it 
has been since Uther’s death. About it, as you see, are places for a 
hundred and fifty knights. Your father-in-law, as part of his gift, has 
sent you one hundred. The other fifty seats, or sieges, you are to fill 
yourself with young men of your own age as they prove themselves 
worthy. But remember, that none must ever take his place until his 
name appears of its own accord upon the siege that he is to occupy.” 

An awed hush fell upon the company, while each man present 
was secretly wondering if he would be among the chosen ones. Then 
the Archbishop stepped forward and raised his arms over the table in 
blessing. As his words died away a strange thing happened: Upon 
one siege after another, as if a mysterious flame were leaping from 
place to place, golden letters spelling the names of knights began to 
appear until there were but twenty-two unclaimed jjlaces. In reverent 
silence the men thus called took their seats, and while they yet waited, 
one more siege began to glow with the mysterious writing. This time, 
however, instead of a name there appeared these words: 


HOW ARTHUR WON HIS SWORD 


til 


“THIS IS THE SIEGE PERILOUS IN WHICH NO 
MAN MAY SIT UNTIL THE COMING OF THE BEST 
KNIGHT IN ALL THE WORLD.” 


Then Arthur, reading this inscription, turned to Merlin in surprise. 

“Surely,” said he, “this is the place of Launcelot, for where 
could we ever find a knight that is better than he.^” 

But the Wise Man shook his head sadly, saying: 

“Let him never dare to take that place lest he be consumed by 
fire from heaven. The knight who is to sit there will surely come 
some ‘day, but that time is still far distant. With these knights 
you must now found the ORDER OF THE ROUND TABLE, 
whose members are to be mystically chosen from among the flower of 
men, and whose vows shall be the noblest that ever knights took 
upon them.” 

Then each of the chosen ones came forward, and kneeling before 
the throne where Arthur sat with his beautiful young queen beside 
him, laid his hand in his sovereign’s and took the vow of the Order: 


“To reverence the King as if he were 
Their conscience, and their conscience as their King, 
To break the heathen and uphold the Christ, 

To ride abroad redressing human wrongs. 

To speak no slander, no, nor listen to it. 

To honor his own word as if his God’s, 


To lead sweet lives in purest chastity. 

To love one maiden only, cleave to her, 
And worship her by years of noble deeds. 
Until they won her.” 


So the sun went down in golden glory upon Arthur’s wedding day. 
GLOSSARY 1 


1. Barge, a boat. 2. Ckivalric, like an ideal 
knight. 3. Chilvalrous, gallant, brave. 4. 
Damsel, a young girl. 5. Ensign, a flag or 
banner. 6. Ethereal, like air. 7. Hermit, one 
who lived in solitude for religious worship. 
8. Hermitage, the home of a hermit. 9. Hilt, 
the handle and guard of a sword. 10. Jousting, 
tilting between two knights. 11. Liege Lord, 


a chief who held authority over other lords. 
12. Overlord, same as liege lord. 13. Samite, a 
cloth like satin with glistening threads of silver 
and gold. 14. Scabbard, the sheath of a sword. 
15. Standard, a flag or banner. 16. Tribute, 
money, or some other thing of value, paid as 
acknowledgment of submission. 


(Bareli) tl)e lKitcl)en IKnave 

“And Gareth said, 

‘Full pardon, but I follow up the quest. 

Despite of Day and Night and Death and Hell.’” 

Tennyson’s “Gareth and Lynette.” 

“^^^OTHER, when wall you let me go to King Arthur’s court.?” 

1 // Queen Bellicent, the wife of King Lot of Orkney, raised 
her troubled eyes to meet the pleading gaze of her youngest 
son, Gareth. 

“O Gareth, Gareth,” she replied in a voice from wLich tears 
were not far distant, “you are still a child; and have you no pity 
for my loneliness.? Both your brothers are in Arthur’s halls, unless 
one, or both, of them is at this very moment lying dead pierced by 
a dozen wounds. You do not know wdiat it means to be a knight 
and daily risk your life in brain-stunning shocks and tourney-falls.” 

“Ah! Mother, Mother,” cried the young man with kindling 
eyes, “it is for that very reason that I long to go!” 

“No, no, my son,” and Bellicent .shook her head sadly, “stay 
a while longer. Follow the deer in your owm father’s forests, and 
so make your manhood mightier day by day.” 

“Follow the deer! Mother, I must follow the Christ and the 
King, or else why w^as I born.? Mother, what can I do to prove to 
you that I am no longer a child but a man, ready to take a man’s 
part in life?” 

“Do? Well, what w'ould you do to prove it — you who have 
never felt a finger-ache or a pain?” 

“Do? Ah! Mother, I would \valk through fire.” 

“You would walk through fire, you say?” and Bellicent smiled 
a strange smile. “In that case you surely would not mind a little 
smoke?” 


GAKETH THE KITCHEN KNAVE 39 

‘A little smoke? Ah! surely not, Mother,” exclaimed the boy 
in surprise. 

‘‘Then I will let you go — ” 

“Truly, Mother?” 



*Dccr in Forest, Courbet 


“FOLLOW THE DEER”* 


[Courtesy Braun ei Cic.] 


“On one condition — ” 

“Yes, anything, anything, only — ” 

“Then listen carefully,” said Queen Bellicent slowly. “You may 
go if you will go disguised, and hire yourself out to serve meats and 
drinks for a year and a day among Arthur’s scullions and kitchen 
knaves.” 

Having said this, the Queen smiled to herself, for she believed 


40 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


that her princely son was far too proud to submit himself to so 
humiliating a test. 

The boy was silent for a while, then he replied gravely: 

“Even though my body were in bondage. Mother, I should still 
be free in soul; and I should see the jousts and hear the talk of the 
brave knights, and see the face of the King now and then. Yes, 
Mother, I will do as you say.” 

Then Bellicent realized that her son was in earnest indeed, and 
she made no more attempt to prevent his going. 

One morning a few days later, therefore, while the anxious mother 
was still asleep, Gareth quietly arose, and taking with him two faith- 
ful serving men who had waited on him since his birth, set out for 
Camelot. 

The three, dressed like tillers of the soil, journeyed southward 
for two days until one fair morning they saw the spires and turrets 
of the mystic city pricking through the mist. Presently they came 
to the wonderful gate upon whose keystone stood an image of the 
Lad}' of the Lake who had given Excalibur to Arthur. Her gar- 
ments seemed to be sweeping from her sides like water flowing away, 
and in the space to left and right of her the young King’s wars were 
shown in weird devices. 

Gareth and his companions stood staring at this curious gate 
so long that at last it seemed to them that the pictured dragons upon 
it began to move and seethe and twine and curl as if the whole portal 
were alive, while from within came a sound of weird music, so that 
the two serving-men would gladly have turned back fearing enchant- 
ment, but Gareth pressed right on until he stood in the long vaulted 
hall of the royal palace itself where the King sat upon his throne 
delivering judgment. 

While Gareth waited he saw one person after another having a 
complaint to make or a boon to ask brought before Arthur, who, 
after listening carefully to the story, would assign the righting of the 
wrong — if such he deemed it to be — to one of the tall knights that 
ranged themselves about his throne; so that every now and then one 
of these would ride away upon his appointed quest. 

At last it came Gareth’s turn to make his plea. Stepping for- 
ward, therefore, leaning upon the shoulders of his two servitors as 
if needing support, he approached and said: “A boon. Sir King!” 


GARETH THE KITCHEN KNAVE 


41 


Then as Arthur bent forward graciously to listen: 

“Grant that I may serve among your kitchen knaves for a year 
and a day. Then, having grown strong with meats and drinks from 
your table, I shall be able to fight.” 

The King looked at the boy in surprise, for neither his face nor 
his stalwart young body showed any signs of weakness or starvation. 
Presently he said: 

“You appear to be a goodly youtli, and worth a goodlier boon. 
Still, as this is what you ask, let it be so. I therefore hand you over 
to the care of my Seneschal, Sir Kay.” 

Gareth turned and looked into the eyes of the man who was 
henceforth to be his master, and certainly the sight was not at all 
reassuring, for Kay was the surliest and most unpleasant looking of 
all the knights at Arthur’s court. 

“Humph!” he now said crossly. “A good-for-nothing fellow, no 
doubt, who has run away from some abbey where he was too lazy 
to earn his food. But he shall work now. I’ll see to that, never 
fear!” 

It chanced, however, that Launcelot, the most illustrious of 
all the knights, and Arthur’s dearest friend, was standing by and 
overheard Kay’s remark. 

“Kay, Kay,” he said, after having taken a good look at the lad. 
“You may know a great deal about dogs and horses, but not much, 
I fear, about men. I advise you to treat that boy kindly, for if he 
is not noble natured I am much mistaken, and you may some day 
discover that he is also of noble blood.” 

“Tut,” replied Kay scornfully. ’ “If he were noble would he not 
have asked the King for horse and armor instead of food and drink. 
Yes, I see that his brow is smooth and his hand white, but I will 
soon alter that when I get him among the pots and pans.” Then 
turning to Gareth : 

“Come along. Sir Fair-hands. Come along with me.” 

So Gareth passed with Sir Kay from the bright glory of Arthur’s 
hall down into the smut and grime of the kitchens where he submitted 
day after day to being hustled and harried by a master who had no 
love* for him. Thus the first long month of his servitude wore away, 
then one day when the lad was scrubbing away as usual at his pots 
and ])ans, seeing how brilliantly he could make them shine, and pre- 


42 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


tending to himself that he was burnishing his armor, Sir Kay strode 
into the room and said gruffly: 

“Ho, ho. Sir Fair-hands, we shall see what is about to happen to 
you now! The King himself has sent for you, doubtless to reprimand 
you for some villainy which you have succeeded in concealing even 
from me. Go along at once.” 

Now, though Gareth’s conscience was clear, he could not help 
being seriously disturbed by this unexpected summons; when, there- 
fore, having hastily washed off the grime and made himself as present- 
able as possible, he found himself once again in the presence of the 
great King, he was much surprised to read in Arthur’s smiling coun- 
tenance no sign of anger or disapproval. 

“Gareth,” said he when the two were alone. “I know your 
secret. Your mother has repented of the hard promise she made 
you give. She has, therefore, sent me a message explaining all and 
releasing you. A man is sometimes knighted, Gareth, on the field 
of battle for some deed of special bravery. I am about to knight 
you now, my boy, for the same reason.” 

“But, my Lord,” cried Gareth in astonishment, “I have as yet 
done no brave deed!” 

“That is a question of which I will be the judge,” replied Arthur 
gravely. “A man on the battlefield or in the tourney has the encour- 
agement of the plaudits of his fellows, and is spurred on by excitement 
and the hope of winning glory, but you have toiled nobly in humilia- 
tion and obscurity. Therefore kneel, Gareth, and receive the order of 
knighthood.” 

At those words of praise from the lips of him whom the lad hon- 
ored as he honored no other human being, Gareth’s eyes filled with 
tears and he knelt humbly to take those vows “as is a shame a man 
should not be bound by, yet the which no man can keep”; then the 
King gave him three strokes with the flat of his sword, and Gareth 
arose — a kitchen knave no longer. 

“Now,” said Arthur, still smiling, “is there another boon that I 
can grant you, SIR Gareth.?” 

The lad pondered for a while, then he said: 

“I am now a knight. Sir King, but I am not yet proven. Grant 
therefore that I may wear my disguise a while longer, and give me the 
next quest. So shall I spring like flame from ashes.” 


GARETH THE KITCHEN KNAVE 


43 


“I will grant that boon,” replied the King gravely, “on condition 
that my friend Sir Launcelot may share the secret.” 

To this Gareth agreed readily enough; so he returned to the 
kitchen to await impatiently the King’s next audience day. And he 
yhad not long to wait, for Arthur held himself ready whenever possible 
to hear the complaints of his subjects. 

It happened, therefore, one fine morning in early summer, that 
a maiden of haughty bearing and high lineage passed into Arthur’s hall, 
and, scarcely waiting to do obeisance, burst out with her grievance: 

“Sir King, you have truly driven the heathen from the land as 
you promised, but bandits and robbers still infest many a bridge and 
ford. If I were king I shoidd not rest until the loneliest spot in the 
realm were as free from bloodshed as your altar cloth.” 

“Fair maiden,” replied the King, courteously ignoring her lack 
of courtesy, “rest assured that I and my knights will never lay aside 
our arms while there is one lonely moorland that is not as safe as the 
centre of this hall. Pray tell us your name and your particular 
need.” 

“My name,” said the damsel proudly, “is Lynette; my need is 
a knight to do battle for my sister, the Lady Lyoners, who lives in 
Castle Perilous about which a broad river winds in three loops. Span- 
ning these loops are three bridges guarded by three bandit knights, 
while a fourth, the most terrible of all, keeps her a prisoner in her own 
castle, and besieges her there, endeavoring to break her will and force 
her to wed him. Therefore have I come to you. Sir King, for your very 
best knight, who is Sir Launcelot as everyone knows. Send us no 
other, I pray you, for already fifty of your knights have given their 
lives in this cause, as their shields testify, for they hang as trophies 
about the black tent of that fourth knight whose face no man has ever 
seen and whose voice no man has ever heard.” 

When she had finished speaking there was silence in the hall 
save for the clinking sound of weapons about to be withdrawn from 
their scabbards. Then in another moment every sword in the room 
was being pointed forward and upward, while the cry rang through 
the whole castle: 

“The quest. Sir King!” 

For the instant Arthur, so absorbed had he been in the maiden’s 
story, had forgotten Gareth and the promise he had made him. He 


44 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


was smiling now as he paused before assigning the adventure to 
Launcelot to look down upon that forest of swords which spoke to 
him so eloquently of the valor of his knights. Suddenly his eye fell 
upon something that was truly an amazing sight: This was a great 
iron spit raised as high as any sword by the begrimed hand of one of 
the kitchen knaves. Then the King remembered! 

His face first flushed and then paled, for he knew that Gareth, 
though of royal blood, was nevertheless but a boy as yet unproved, 
and he knew, too, that this was a quest in which many a full-grown 
man had failed. Yet he had given his word, and the w^ord of a King 
may not be broken; therefore, turning to the poorly clad scullion, he 
bent his head, saying: 

“Sir Fair-hands, the quest is yours.” 

Up to that moment, in the general excitement, none of the knights 
had noticed the entrance of this intruder in their midst. Now, how- 
ever, every eye in the room was turned upon the spot where poor Gareth 
stood with his spit still in his hand. 

It was a rule at Arthur’s court that there should be no murmuring 
when a quest was assigned. But never before had the self-control 
of the knights been put to such a test as this. For a while there was 
a dead silence which was broken presently by Sir Kay, who could not 
repress a deep grunt. Then the maiden, having at last realized what 
had happened, burst forth: 

“Shame on you. Sir King, and shame forever on your boasted 
Order of the Round Table! I, a maiden of gentle birth, have asked 
you for your best knight, and you have given me your kitchen loiave ! — 
Your kitchen knave!” 

Then before anyone could stop her, she turned her back on the 
King, fled from the room, and was on her horse and away. 

Gareth, however, had no idea of losing his opportunity. Loosen- 
ing a string, therefore, he allowed his kitchen garb to fall off, revealing 
the fact, to the amazement of all present, that he was clothed under- 
neath in a full suit of glittering, jewelled armor. Then, throwing 
aside his spit, he seized spear and shield, gifts from the King, 
and leaping upon a war horse, another gift, was after the fleeing 
maiden before the spectators had had time to recover from their 
surprise. 

Just beyond the gates of the city he overtook her, and saw to 


GARETH THE. KITCHEN KNAVE 


45 


his dismay', that despite his transformation, the flush of anger deep- 
ened in her cheeks at sight of him. Nevertheless, he addressed her 
most courteously. 

“Fair Damsel,” said he, “the quest is mine. Ride and I follow.” 

At this the maiden drew herself to her full height and answered, 
while her black eyes flashed scorn upon her would-be champion: 

“Sir Scullion, I have but one request to make of you, and that is 
that you leave me this instant. Far rather would I fall a prey to 
bandits or wild beasts than be protected by such as you. Leave me, 
I pray you, for you smell of the kitchen.” 

“Damsel,” replied Gareth still as courteously as ever, “say what 
you please to me, but whatever you say, rest assured I will never leave 
you till I achieve the quest, or die in the attempt. Ride and I follow.” 

LTpon hearing this, without another word the maiden spurred her 
palfrey in a vain attempt to outdistance her protector, and so they 
rode through deep w'oods until the shades of night overtook them, 
and they w^ere obliged to seek shelter at a neighboring castle. 

The next morning, however, the two were early on their way 
once more, and Gareth had begun to think that the fair Lynette 
would never deign to speak to him again, when suddenly she reined 
her horse, thus allowing him to come up with her, and said: 

‘Sir Scullion, we shall scon reach the first loop of the river which 
is guarded, as I told the King, by a bandit knight. He calls himself 
Morning Star, and I advise you to turn back; for no kitchen knave 
could ever hope to do battle successfully with such as he.” 

“Madam,” said Gareth firmly, “as I have told you before, this 
quest is mine. I pray you, ride on and I follow.” 

She said no more, but scornfully obeyed his command, and it 
was not long before they came to a bridge which spanned a narrow 
but deep stream. On the farther side Gareth beheld a silk pavilion, 
gay wuth golden streaks and rays of the Lent-lily, except where the 
dome rose high and purple. From the top there floated a crimson 
banner, and beneath, an unarmed warrior was pacing to and fro. 

At sight of the maiden’s champion, this knight gave a strange call, 
whereupon three beautiful, silken-clad maidens, the Daughters of 
the Dawn, whose golden tresses were begemmed with drops of morning 
dew, came forward and clad the warrior in light blue armor and placed 
in his hand a blue shield in the centre of which shone a morning star. 


46 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Then the knight leaped upon his horse, and wdth fiery speed he 
and Gareth shocked together in the centre of the bridge so that both 
their spears were bent, then each hurled a stone from his catapult, 
after which, Gareth recovering himself lashed so fiercely with his 
brand that he drove his enemy backward down the bridge until his 
own shield was broken — but the Morning Star lay grovelling at his feet. 

“ Spare my life. Sir Knight, I yield !” the great warrior was nowcrying. 

‘T will spare it,” replied Gareth, “on condition that this maiden 
asks me to do so.” 

“Insolent scullion,” cried the damsel, flushing, “must I stoop 
so low as to ask a favor of you.? I will not.” 

“Then shall he die,” said Gareth quietly. 

“Stop, rascal,” cried Lynette as Gareth began to unlace the 
warrior’s helmet, “it would be a shame for me to allow a knight to 
be slain by a kitchen knave. Therefore I ask you. Sir Scullion, to 
spare his life.” 

“Rise then,” said Gareth to his fallen enemy, “but give me 
your shield in place of my broken one, and ride to Arthur’s hall and 
there tell the King that his kitchen knave has achieved one-fourth 
part of his quest.” Then to the maiden he said, “Ride, Damsel, and 
I follow.” 

On they went, those two strange companions, re viler and reviled, 
while the sun gradually rose higher in the heavens, and the heat grew 
more and more oppressive. Toward noon Lynette slowed her palfrey 
once again and turning to her champion said: 

“Sir Knave, by some evil chance you have managed to overcome 
a knight. Think not, however, that you will be able to stand against 
him whom you are now about to encounter. He calls himself Noonday 
Sun, and his strength as far exceeds that of his brother, IMorning Star, 
as the light of the sun at noon exceeds that of the star that fades in 
the blue of dawn. I warn you for the second time to flee.” 

But Gareth’s only answer was: 

“Maiden, the quest is mine. Ride and I follow.” 

^Yithin a few more moments they had reached the second bend 
of the river, where they beheld sitting astride a huge red horse the 
terrible Noonday Sun. This man’s armor and shield were so brightly 
burnished that they seemed to cast off sparks so that Gareth was 
nearly blinded by their splendor. At sight of the boy this mighty 


GARETH THE KITCHEN KNAVE 


47 


warrior gave an angry cry and plunged into the foaming stream, where 
Gareth met him half way. Four mighty strokes they gave each other 
with their swords, then because there was no room in the whirling 
waters for any tourney skill, Gareth feared that he would be overcome 
and put to shame before the maiden. Just then, however, the knight 
raised his ponderous arm for a fifth stroke, whereupon his horse 
slipped in the stream, and the waters extinguished the light of the 
Noonday Sun. 

Gareth, however, was too true a knight to take such an ad- 
vantage of his enemy. He put his lance across the ford, therefore, 
and with great difficulty managed to bring him to shore. But the 
warrior was no longer willing to continue the contest; so Gareth 
spared his life at the request of the maiden upon the condition that he 
ride to Arthur’s court and inform the King that one-half of the kitchen 
knave’s quest was now achieved. 

Then the two rode on once more through the long hours of the 
sultry afternoon. Toward evening the maiden reined her horse again 
and began to speak in a voice that seemed to Gareth just a trifle less 
scornful. 

“Sir Scullion,” said she, “for a kitchen knave you have truly 
done well. Nevertheless, if the Noonday Sun’s horse had not slipped 
you certainly would not have been the victor. Therefore I advise 
you to leave this quest, for the man that you are now to meet as an 
opponent is an old and seasoned warrior, who calls himself Evening 
Star. You will have little chance to stand against him, I assure you. 
Be wise and flee for your life while there is yet time.” 

“Maiden,” said Gareth as courteously as ever, “the quest is 
mine. Ride and I follow.” 

So they rode and presently reached the third loop of the river, 
which was spanned by a bridge of treble bow. Beyond this bridge, 
outlined against the rose-red of the western sky, stood a huge figure 
wrapped in hardened skins that fit him like his o^vn. 

“See,” whispered the maiden in a frightened voice, “if you should 
succeed in cleaving his armor, those skins would turn the blade of 
your sword. O Gareth, Gareth, be careful!” 

At that new tone the lad’s heart leaped within him for joy, but 
he had not long to consider its meaning, for the Evening Star was 
now calling to him from the bridge: 


48 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“O brother-star, why do you shine here so low? Your w^ard is 
higher up. But tell me, have you slain the maiden’s champion?” 

Then the damsel saw that he was mistaking Gareth for his 
brother because he bore the Morning Star’s shield, and cried out 
to him: 

“No star of yours, but shot from Arthur’s heaven wdth all disaster 
to you and yours! Both your younger brothers have gone down 
before this youth; and so will you. Sir Star; are you not old?” 

“Yes, old,” laughed the knight, “both old and hard, wdth the 
might and breath of twenty such boys.” 

Then he blew a fierce blast on his horn, whereat, from out a storm- 
beaten and many-stained pavilion came a grizzled old w^oman who 
armed him in battered arms and brought him a helm with a drying 
evergreen for a crest and a shield wdiose emblem was a half-tarnished 
evening star. Thus equipped, he leaped upon his horse, and he and 
Gareth hurled madly together on the bridge. 

Three times in that terrible struggle the lad threw his opponent, 
and three times he saw him rise again as strong as ever until Gareth 
was panting hard, and his heart, fearing that he w^ould now be over- 
come, labored wdthin him. Just at this moment, however, above the 
din of clashing arms, he heard the voice of Lynette. 

“ Well done, brave knight! ” she w'as crying. “ Oh knave as noble 
as any knight, shame me not! Oh good knight-knave, strike! You 
are worthy of the Round Table! His arms are old; he trusts his 
hardened skin. Strike! Strike!” 

Then Gareth, encouraged by this unexpected praise, smote with 
such might that he hewed off great pieces of his enemy’s armor and at 
last succeeded in hurling him headlong over the bridge. Panting 
still, he turned to the maiden, saying: 

“Three-fourths of my quest is now achieved. Fair Damsel; ride 
and I follow.” 

But Lynette answered very, very gently: 

“I lead no longer. You are the kingliest of all kitchen knaves. 
Ride at my side, I pray you.” 

So the tw^o rode side by side as the long summer twdlight deepened 
about them. After a wLile the maiden spoke again, and all her former 
haughtiness had left her so that her voice was sw'eet and shy: 

“Sir,” she murmured, “Sir — wdiom I w’ould now call knight if I 


GARETH THE KITCHEN KNAVE 


49 


had not heard you call yourself a knave — I am ashamed to have 
treated you so discourteously. I am of noble birth, and I thought the 
King scorned me and mine when he assigned the quest to you. But 
now I humbly ask your pardon, for I know that whatever may be 
your rank, you have a princely heart.” 

“Damsel,” said Gareth gently, “you are not all to blame, except 
for mistrusting our good King. Know then that I am no kitchen 
knave but the son of King Lot and Queen Bellicent of Orkney, and 
if I had any but a princely heart I should shame my birth.” 

Then they rode again for a long time in silence. After a while 
Lynette spoke one more: 

“Sir Prince, I feel that the time has come when I must warn 
you ; but do not, I pray you, think that I speak any longer in scorn. 
You have fought valiantly. I doubt if Launcelot himself could have 
performed greater feats. But now I plead with you to turn back. 
You are wounded I know, although you have not told me. W onders 
you have done, miracles you cannot do. This knight who guards the 
castle is not a man but a monster who calls himself Night or Death. 
No mortal has ever seen his face uncovered, or heard his voice, and 
his appearance is too terrible for me to describe. I beg of you to turn 
back and leave the achieving of this part of the quest to Launcelot, 
whom the Dreadful One challenged.” 

But Gareth only shook his head, and rode on saying: 

“This quest is mine. Fair Damsel, in spite of Day and Night and 
Death himself.” 

And now heavy clouds began to gather hiding the friendly stars 
from their gaze, while the air took on a strange, midnight chill. Pres- 
ently Lynette leaned toward Gareth and whispered in an awed voice: 

“There!” 

And through the gloom Gareth perceived, standing beside what 
he guessed to be Gastle Perilous, a huge black pavilion vdth a black 
banner trailing from its peak. In an instant, before Lynette could 
prevent him he had seized a long, black horn that hung near by, and 
i)lown a blast that sent a ghostly echo through the night. Then he 
waited, but there was no response, save from the castle windows 
where lights began to twinkle and pale faces were seen peering out. 
Again he blew — and a third time. Then, at last, the great black 
doors of the pavilion were slowly drawn aside and there issued forth 


50 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


a hideous figure in coal-black armor, seated upon a huge black horse, 
and bearing a black shield whose emblem was a white breast-bone, 
barren ribs, and a grinning skull. Through the dim light this frightful 
apparition advanced, then paused, speaking never a word. 

And now Gareth really believed that his last hour had come, for 
all things seemed to be enveloped in a cloud of nameless horror. 
Suddenly the great black war-horse gave an unexpected plunge 
forward, and those that had not closed their eyes in terror, saw 
Death reel in the saddle, and drop to the ground with a mighty crash. 
In an instant Gareth had leaped from his own horse, and with two 
mighty strokes managed to split open his enemy’s armor. Then — • 
out peeped the bright face of a blooming boy ! 

Before Gareth could recover from his astonishment, the child 
was kneeling before him and pleading: 

“Do not slay me. Sir Knight, I beg of you! My brothers. Morn- 
ing Star, Noonday Sun, and Evening Star made me dress up in this 
way to frighten other knights away from the Lady Lyoners.” 

“But, my child” asked Gareth kindly, “what madness made 
you challenge Launcelot, the chief knight of Arthur’s Round Table?” 

“Fair Sir, they made me do that too,” the boy replied, “for they 
hated Launcelot, and hoped to slay him somewhere on the stream. 
They never dreamed that he could pass all three bridges.” 

Then Gareth gently raised the lad, bidding him have no fear, 
and the two followed Lynette into the castle where the Lady Lyoners 
stood waiting to welcome them, and where she speedily made ready a 
great feast in honor of Gareth and the overthrow of Death. 

Now some say that Prince Gareth married the Lady Lyoners, 
while others say that he married Lynette, but however that may be, 
when he rode back to Arthur’s hall with his bride, he found that one 
of the sieges of the mystic Round Table glowed with the letters of 
his name. 


GLOSSARY 8 


1. Boon, a gift. 2. Brand, a sword. .S. Bur- 
nish, to polish. 4. Catapult, a military engine. 
5. Champion, one who fights for another. G. 
Cleave, to split. 7. Device, Emblem, a picture 
used as the badge of a person or family. 8. 
Knave, a male servant. 9. Lent-Lilhj, a daffo- 


dil. 10. Lineage, family. 11. Obeisance, a bow. 
12. Palfrey, a woman’s saddle-horse. 13. Pa- 
vilion, a tent. 14. Plaudot, applause. 15. 
Quest, a search. 16. Scullion, a servant. 17. 
Seneschal, a steward. 18. Siege, a seat. 19. Spit, 
a pointed bar upon which meat was roasted. 


V 


(Beraint will) tl)e Sparrow -H'CawK 

“ The brave Geraint, a knight of Arthur’s court, 

A tributary prince of Devon, one 
Of that great order of the Table Round, 

Had married Enid, Yniol’s only child. 

And loved her, as he loved the light of Heaven.” 

Tennyson’s “Geraint and Enid.” 

' *J|[N the days when the Round Table was at the height of its 

\m glory, it was Arthur’s custom to hold his court at Caerleon- 
^ Upon-Usk once a year at the Feast of Pentecost, which, it 
will be remembered, was likewise his birthday and the anniversary of 
his coronation. And it was also his rule never to sit down to the 
banquet that was then spread until he and his knights had either seen, 
or heard of, some unusual thing. 

On this particular day, therefore, the King and the Queen and 
all the noblemen and ladies of the court were assembled in the high 
hall of the castle awaiting the report of some strange adventure, and 
feeling sure, such were the exciting times in which they lived, that it 
would be forthcoming in some shape or form before very long. Sud- 
denly there appeared in their midst Arthur’s chief forester, still wet 
from the woods, bearing the news that a white hart had been seen 
in the forest. 

Now a white hart was then, and is still, an unusual sight; and 
the report of its appearance was considered by all to be sufficiently 
peculiar to permit the feast to begin. Naturally, therefore, the con- 
versation as the guests passed into the banquet hall was about this 
wonderful animal. 

“Ah! how beautiful it must be, and how I should like to possess 
its head!” exclaimed one of the Queen’s maidens; and her wish was 
echoed by first one and then another of her companions. 

51 


52 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Hearing this, the gallant knights were immediately on the alert. 

“Since the ladies desire this head,” they cried enthusiastically, 
turning toward their King, “why may we not procure it for them?” 

At this Arthur smiled, and gave the order for the horns to be 
blown announcing a hunt for the following day. 

“And he who slays the hart,” said he, “shall have the head with 
the privilege of bestowing it upon the lady whom he loves best in all 
the world.” 

To this plan they were all ready enough to agree until one of 
the younger knights of their number, Geraint by name, a tributary 
prince of Devon, arose in his place and thus addressed his sovereign: 

“Sir King, for those of us whose hearts have already found a 
harbor in some gentle maiden’s breast, the plan is a good one; but 
in case the prize should be won by such a knight as I, who am still 
heart-whole and heart-free — what then?” 

Then Arthur pondered for a moment, but before he could come 
to any decision, Launcelot arose and in his turn addressed the 
King: 

“Your Majesty,” said he, “I suggest that, in such a case, the 
fortunate one bestow the head upon the flower of your court — Queen 
Guinevere.” 

At this there was great applause, which only subsided when the 
beautiful Queen herself arose to speak. 

“My Lords,” said she, “let it then be understood by all that, 
should this prize fall to my lot, I will keep it in safety and make it 
a wedding gift to the first bride that one of your number shall bring 
to our court.” 

Thereupon the room rang again with the clapping of hands, and 
the matter was so arranged. 

Now the Queen had asked as a favor that she and her ladies be 
allowed to see this hunt; but when, with the first signs of dawn, the 
eager knights were up and away, Guinevere was still lost in sweet 
dreams. At last, however, she arose, and in company with a single 
maiden, took horse and crossed the river. Presently they reached 
the wood, and there, drawing rein, waited upon a tiny knoll listening 
for the baying of the hounds. 

Instead of that, however, the first sound that greeted their ear 
was that of a galloping horse’s hoofs, for Geraint had also overslept. 


(I'ERAINT WITH THE SPARROW-HAWK 


53 


and was now making his tardy appearance wearing neither hunting- 
dress nor weapon, except a golden-hilted sword. 

Upon seeing the Queen, he immediately rode forward and bowed 
low, which act of courtesy she returned with stately grace. Then 
she laughed and said: 

“Fie, Prince, you are late, later than we!” 

“Yes, noble Queen,” replied Geraint, “so late, in fact, that I 
have, as you see, left arms and hunting garb at home, and am come, 
like you, to see the hunt, not to join it.” 

“For shame, Sir Knight!” said the Queen, still laughing. “One 
sees plainly by your conduct that you are still free in heart, otherwise 
you would have taken more interest in this prize which all the maidens 
so desire.” 

Geraint was about to make some chivalrous reply when the con- 
versation was interrupted by the sudden appearance around a bend 
in the road of a knight riding with his visor up, and thus revealing 
a youthful but extremely haughty countenance. At his side rode a 
lady, and behind the two lagged a little black dw^arf. 

Now it occurred to Guinevere that she had never seen the man’s 
face in Arthur’s hall, and immediately she became curious to learn 
who he might be. Turning to her maiden, therefore, she said: 

“Go, I pray you, and ask that dwarf his master’-s name.” 

But the little creature, in spite of the smallness of his stature, 
was old and vicious and irritable, and answered with scant courtesy 
that he w^ould give the damsel no information, whereupon the quick 
color came into her cheeks, and she replied hotly: 

“Then I will ask your master himself.” 

“No, by my faith you shall not,” cried the ugly little fellow. 
“You are not wwthy to speak to such a one as he!” And with that 
he struck at her wdth his whip, so that she returned indignant to the 
Queen. 

At this Geraint, even more indignant than the maiden herself, 
spurred his horse, exclaiming sharply : 

“Surely I wall learn the name.” 

But prince though he was, he fared no better at the hands of the 
impudent little creature, who struck at him also with his whip, cutting 
his cheek until the blood spurted forth. In an instant Geraint had 
instinctively caught at the hilt of his sw^ord; then he remembered the 


54 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


honor of his knighthood, which would not permit him to fight with one 
smaller or weaker than himself. So he returned to the Queen and said : 

“Your Majesty, rest assured that I will avenge this insult done 
in your maiden’s person to yourself. At this moment I cannot do 



“THE RUINS OF WHAT HAD ONCE BEEN A STATELY CASTLE” 

Old Ruined Castle, Hobbema, Louvre, Paris [Courtesy Braun et Cie.] 


battle with the knight, for he is fully armed and I have only my 
sword. But I will follow, never losing sight of him, and doubtless I 
shall sooner or later come to a place where arms may be had for pledge 
or loan. Then I will fight him and break his pride, and on the third 
day from this, if I have not fallen in the contest, I will be with you 
again. Farewell.” 

“Farewell,” said Guinevere, feeling sad to see the brave young 
fellow start on such a quest. Then she added more lightly : 


GERAINT WITH THE SPARROW-HAWK 


55 



“Perchance in your wanderings, Sir Geraint, you will find the 
princess who is to bring your heart into bondage.” 

At this Geraint glances down the wooden lane which the knight 
with his two companions was pursuing, then he laughed softly, saying: 

“Princesses, Your Majesty, are found in kings’ palaces. By all 
appearances, if I follow that road, I shall be far more likely to 
meet with some ragged beggar 
maiden.” 

“Ah well! sometimes a rag- 
ged beggar maiden has proved 
to be a princess in disguise,” re- 
plied the Queen. “But however 
that maj^ be, if you find her. Sir 
Prince, and are sure that she is 
the maiden of your choice, bring 
her to me, though she be dressed 
in rags and tatters, and I will 
clothe her for her bridals like the 
sun. Farewell.” 

Then Geraint bowed low to 
his sovereign, and hastily spurred 
his horse lest the haughty knight 
should after all escape him. So 
he rode by ups and downs, 
through many a grassy glade, 
with his eyes fixed upon the three 
until at last they climbed a ridge 
beneath which Geraint when he 
too had reached the spot, beheld the long street of a little town on 
one side of which rose a fortress white and beautiful as if the workmen 
had just left it. On the other side, however, he saw the ruins of 
what had once been a stately castle. 

Straight toward the fortress rode the knight with his companions, 
and was soon lost to sight behind its walls. Nevertheless, Geraint 
was not discouraged, for he knew that he had now tracked him to 
his lair; so he passed wearily into the village seeking arms and shelter 
for the night. He soon discovered, however, that neither would be 
so easy to find, for this tiny hamlet seemed to be a very busy place 


“GERAINT CAME TO AN ARMORER’S SHOP” 
Armourer, Detail from Forge of Vulean, Velasquez, Prado, 
Madrid [Courtesy Braun ct Cie.\ 



56 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


indeed — so bus}', in fact, that none of its inhabitants appeared to 
have any time to talk to the stranger, in reply to whose questions they 
merely muttered something about a “sparrow-hawk.” 

So Geraint presently came to an armorer’s shop where a man 
sat vigorously riveting a helmet. Here he drew rein and called out: 

“My man, can I hire some armor from you.?” 

Whereat the fellow replied, without so much as stopping work 
or turning his head: 

“Friend, he that labors for the Sparrow-hawk has little time for 
idle gossip. Armor? Certainly not! You will find that each man 
has need of his own at such a time as this. Do you forget that the 
Sparrow-Hawk is to-morrow?” 

Then Geraint’s anger flamed, for this was by no means the first 
answer of the kind which he had received. 

“A thousand pips eat up your sparrow-hawk!” he cried hotly. 
“You think the cackle of your hamlet the murmur of the whole wide 
world! But what is it all to me? Speak, if you are not hawk-mad 
like the rest, and tell me where I may find shelter for the night and 
arms, arms, arms to fight my enemy!” 

At this outburst the armorer looked up amazed; then, seeing 
that Geraint was richly clad, he came forward with his helmet still 
in his hand, and answered courteously enough: 

“Pardon me, stranger knight! We hold a tourney here to- 
morrow morning, and we have scarcely time enough between then 
and now for all the work there is to be done. Arms? Indeed I 
cannot tell you where you will find any, for all are needed. 
Shelter? The town is already full, but perhaps the old Earl Yniol 
who lives in that ruined castle across the bridge yonder would take 
you in.” 

So Geraint, still feeling somewhat annoyed at the reception he 
was receiving, crossed the bridge and soon reached the gate of the 
old castle. There, dressed in a suit of frayed magnificence that once had 
been fit for feasts and ceremonies, sat an aged man with a snowy- 
white beard. 

“Where are you going, my son?” said he as Geraint rode up. 

“I am looking for a harborage for the night, good father,” replied 
the young man. 

To which Earl Yniol replied, for the old man was he: 


GERAINT WITH THE SPARROW-HAWK 


57 


“Then enter here, I pray you, and partake of such poor enter- 
tainment as this house can afford.” 

“I will gladly accept your hospitality,” said Geraint, then he added 
laughingly : “ So long as you do not serve me sparrow-hawks for dinner.” 

At this the old earl sighed, saying: 

“My son, graver cause have I than you to curse this hedgerow 
thief — this Sparrow-Hawk; but ride in, ride in, and we will talk of 
him later.” 

So Geraint rode into the court between whose broken stones 
sprouted many a prickly star and thistle, then passed through a 
shattered archway plumed with fern, until he stood by a half-fallen 
tower looking up at a piece of turret stair worn by feet that now were 
silent. And as he waited he heard the voice of a maiden ringing 
like the clear note of a bird through the open casement of the hall, 
and these were the words of her song: 

“Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud; 

Turn thy wild wheel thro’ sunshine, storm, and cloud; 

Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate. 

“Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel with smile or frown; 

With that wild wheel wo go not up or down; 

Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great. 

“Smile and we smile, the lords of many lands; 

Frown and we smile, the lords of our own hands; 

For man is man and master of his fate. 

“Turn, turn thy wheel above the staring crowd; 

Thy wheel and thou are shadows in the cloud; 

Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.” 

The sweet singer who was thus bidding defiance to the harsh 
rulings of an unkind fate was Enid, the beautiful young daughter 
of the old earl; and now as her song ceased she heard her father 
calling, and hastened down from her bower to aid her mother in 
welcoming their guest. 

As she moved about the hall, clad in her faded silks, preparing 


58 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


and serving the simple meal with all the grace of a princess, Geraint’s 
eyes followed her until his heart was stirred within him and he said 
to himself: 

“Here is the one maiden in the world for me.” 

Then as they sat at meat Yniol began to tell his guest the story 
of his misfortunes. 

“You see yonder fortress.^^” said he. “There lives my bitter 
enemy and the cause of all our woe. He is my nephew, and a wild and 
turbulent fellow, therefore I refused him the hand of my daughter, 
whereupon he caused a vile slander to be circulated concerning me, 
saying that his father had left him gold in my charge which I refused 
to render up. Then, just three years ago on the night before my 
Enid’s birthday, he raised my own town against ne, and sacked my 
house, and foully ousted me from my earldom. After which he built 
that fortress yonder to overawe such of my friends as still are true 
to me.” 

Hearing this recital of wrong and cruelty the young knight’s 
fighting blood began to boil within him, and with a flash of his eye 
he asked eagerly: 

“Tell me, Earl Yniol, was that knight whom I saw ride into 
the fortress to-day with a lady and a little black dwarf your 
nephew.^ ” 

“Yes,” replied the old man. “He has come for the sparrow-hawk 
tournament which is held here every year.” 

“Ah!” exclaimed Geraint, “the sparrow-hawk tournament, will 
you tell me about that?” 

“Certainly,” said the Earl.“ It is a tourney for which the prize 
is a golden sparrow-hawk. Every knight must bring with him the 
lady whom he loves best in all the world and try to win the sparrow- 
hawk for her. My nephew has now won it two years in succession, 
and if he wins it again to-morrow he will never need to fight for it 
again, for it will be sent to him every year. Therefore the people 
about here have named him the Sparrow-Hawk knight.” 

Then Geraint rejoiced, and after telling his kind host and hostess 
the story of the insult to the Queen, he cried out exultingl}': 

“Earl Yniol cause had I enough before to wish to fight this 
haughty Sparrow-Hawk, but now that I have heard this story, I 
swear that in to-morrow’s tourney I will forever break his pride. 


GERAINT WITH THE SPARROW-HAWK 


59 


Do not tell me his name, I pray you, for I will force it from his own 
lips. I only ask that you lend me arms.” 

“Arms.?” replied the Earl. “Surely, Prince Geraint, though 
indeed they are old and battered; but have you forgotten the condi- 
tion of entering the tournament.? The rule is that no knight may 
tilt unless he brings with him the lady whom he loves best in all the 
world. Therefore I fear you cannot fight, for doubtless that fair lady 
is at this moment far away in Arthur’s stately halls.” 

Then Geraint smiled as he answered: 

“No,. Earl Yniol, that fair lady is not, and never has been, at 
Arthur’s court; for but a few short hours ago I did not even know 
of her existence. But all that is changed now.” Then, leaning 
slightly forward, he added: “Let me lay my lance in rest, my noble 
host, for this dear child, your daughter. If I fail, she shall go free 
and her name remain as untarnished as before; but if I live, and 
can win your consent and hers, she shall be my true wife.” 

At this the old man’s heart rejoiced, yet he did not wish to 
sacrifice his child even to better her own fortunes as well as his. 
He looked about, therefore, only to find that the damsel, at mention 
of her name, had slipped away; so he turned to his gentle wife who 
was sitting at his side, saying: 

“Mother, a maiden is a tender thing, and you will understand this 
child of ours better than any one else. Speak to her before she goes 
to rest, and learn, if you can, what her feelings are toward this 
young prince.” 

At an early hour the next morning the whole village was already 
astir, for this was the greatest day of their entire year. Geraint, his 
princely bearing showing through his battered armor, rode to the lists 
with old Yniol, where they were joined by the Countess and the fair 
Enid, who had shyly given her consent. In the centre of the field 
were set up two silver forks across which lay a silver rod, and across 
the rod was placed the golden sparrow-hawk, while circling all about 
the lists was a great crowd of knights and ladies. 

Presently a trumpet was blown, whereupon he who had offered 
the insult to the Queen rode out proudly with his lady at his side, 
and cried aloud to her that all might hear: 

“Advance, and take as fairest of the fair the prize of beauty which 
for these two years past I have won for you!” 


60 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Thereupon the lady was about to do his bidding when, to the 
amazement of all present, Geraint stepped forward and said cour- 
teously, remembering his knightly respect for all womanhood: 

“One moment, I pray you; this year there is another who makes 
claim to that prize.” 

At this the haughty Sparrow-Hawk turned and looked disdain- 
fully at Enid in her faded silks and her champion in his rusty armor. 

“If you think your lady more worthy of the prize than mine,” 
said he, “are you willing to fight with me to prove it.?*” 

“I am,” was Geraint’s simple reply. 

Then the two set their spears in rest and crashed together so 
that three times their weapons were splintered, after which they 
dismounted and drawing their swords lashed at each other with blow 
on blow until all the crowd marvelled at such an exhibition of prowess. 
For a long time it seemed that neither would ever be victorious, but 
just as Geraint, disadvantaged by his rusty armor, was beginning to 
breathe.hard, the voice of old Yniol was heard above the tumult, crying: 

“Remember the insult to the Queen!” 

At which Geraint’s own heart whispered, “And remember, too, 
the wrongs of Enid!” Then he heaved his blade aloft so that it fell 
with such force upon his opponent’s helmet that it cracked it through 
and the haughty knight fell to the ground with a crash. 

Instantly the victor’s foot was set on his enemy’s breast, while he 
cried out: 

“As champion of our noble Queen Guinevere whom you have 
insulted, I demand your name!” 

To which the once haughty knight replied: 

“I yield! My name is Edryn, son of Nudd.” 

“Then Edryn, son of Nudd,” said Geraint sternly, “three things 
shall you do, or else you die. First you shall ride with your lady 
and your dwarf to Arthur’s court there to crave pardon of the Queen 
for your insult; after that you shall return to this place to contradict 
the vile slanders that you have circulated against your uncle; then 
you shall give back to him his earldom and relinquish forever all 
claim to his daughter’s hand.” 

To which Edryn answered meekly: 

“My pride is broken, for Enid sees me fall. All these things 
will I do. Sir Knight; I yield!” 


GERAINT WITH THE SPARROW-HAWK 


61 


Then Geraint permitted him to rise, and saw him set off toward 
Caerleon to perform the first part of his promise. 

And now it was the morning of the third day after the stag hunt 
— the day set for Geraint’s departure to present his bride at Arthur’s 
court. So Enid in her ivied tower woke early and lay for a time 



“ THE TWO SET THEIR SPEARS IN REST AND CRASHED TOGETHER” 

Tournament, Reubens, Lou%-re, Paris {Courtesy Braun et Cie.] 


thinking joyously of this sudden change in her fortunes until her eye 
happened to fall upon the faded silk gown that was the very best 
in her wardrobe. Then— for she was just a girl like other girls — the 
slow tears began to fall at the thought of the disgrace which such 
attire must surely bring upon her princely young champion when he 
presented her to the Queen and the other richly gowned ladies of the 
court. So it happened that her mother, entering the room presently, 
found her daughter weeping bitterly on her wedding day. 

“My child, my dearest child!” she cried in distress. “What 



62 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


can be the matter? Is it that you do not, after all, want to marry 
this brave young knight who has fought so nobly in our cause?” 

At this the maiden’s sobbing ceased, and she managed to reply 
in a tone that convinced her mother: 

“Oh! no, no, no. How could it be that? He is so brave and 
strong, yet so gentle and so kind!” 

“Then perhaps you dread to leave your father and me,” continued 
the good mother. “But child, child, your husband will often bring 
you home to visit us and comfort our old age.” 

But once again the maiden shook her head, and at last, brokenly, 
through her sobs, she made known the cause of her grief : 

“Oh Mother, Mother, it is a new dress that I want!” 

At this the Countess smiled and left the room, to reappear pres- 
ently with a beautiful silken gown all branched and flowered with 
gold, which she deposited tenderly on a near-by couch. 

“Look, Enid,” she cried, “and tell me if you know it.” 

The girl obeyed, and exclaimed in joyous surprise: 

“Indeed, Mother, indeed I do! It is the birthday gift you had 
prepared for me on that unhappy night when our castle was sacked 
by Edrjm’s men; but I thought it was destroyed with all our other 
beautiful things.” 

“No,” replied the Countess, “your father was able to recover it; 
so now it is to be your wedding gown. Rise quickly and put it on.” 

Meanwhile Geraint was anxiously awaiting the appearance of 
his bride-to-be; and, having grown a trifle impatient, he sent word 
to ask when she would be ready. The message was soon brought to 
him that her mother was dressing her in her best attire that she might 
do him credit at the court. At this, suddenly remembering the last 
words that the Queen had spoken to him, he hesitated for a moment, 
then he said: 

“Ask her as a special favor to me, although I can give her no 
reason for my wish, that she wear the gown in which I first saw her.” 

Now when this strange request reached Enid, the girl’s smile 
faded, and she was once again very sad; nevertheless, remembering 
all that the noble young knight had done for her and her family, she 
quietly laid aside the beautiful robe in which she was already govmed 
and put on her old dress, which now looked to her like a withered 
leaf in mid-November. Then she descended the turret-stairs to meet 


GERAINT WITH THE SPARROW-HAWK 


63 


her future husband, whose smile showed his pleasure that she had 
respected his wish, and soon the two mounted horse and rode away. 


Meanwhile, during the three days that Geraint had spent in 
these varied adventures, there had been excitement, too, at court. 
On the first day, the day of the hunt, 

Arthur himself had slain the hart; there- 
fore the prize of the beautifnl white head 
had gone to the Queen as the lady 
whom the King loved best in all the 
world. On the second day Edryn had 
arrived to make his humble apologj\ 

And now it was the third day — the day 
on which Geraint had promised to re- 
turn if he were successful in his quest. 

Guinevere, therefore, mounted to 
the turrets of the castle and stood 
shading her eyes with her slender white 
hand and looking far into the distance 
up the vale of Usk. Presently she per- 
ceived a cloud of dust from which there 
emerged two figures on horseback — a 
knight and a lady, and after a while she 
was able to recognize the knight as 
Geraint. 

“But a lady with him!” said the 
Queen to herself in surprise. “Ah! me, 

I wonder if he is, after all, bringing 
me his ragged beggar maiden!” 

Then she descended from her tower to greet her champion and 
thank him for defending her honor. But as she spoke the gracious 
words, Geraint stepped forward and bowing low, replied: 

“Your Majesty, do not thank me, but thank this maiden here, 
but for whom I could not have fought as I did. She has promised to 
become my wife, therefore, I have brought her to you in obedience 
to your last command.” 

Meanwhile the ladies of the court had gathered about, and some 
were inclined to cast scornful glances upon this simple girl in her faded 



I WILL CLOTHE HER FOR HER WED- 
DING AS NEVER MAIDEN WAS 
CLOTHED BEFORE IN BRITAIN 

Beatrice de Cuisance, Van Dyck, Windsor Castle 
[Courtesy Braun et Cie.] 



64 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


gown; but the Queen, looking past the gown into the maiden’s lovely 
face and gentle eyes, opened her arms wide in welcome, then turning 
to Geraint she said : 

“Sir Prince, we gladly receive your bride at Arthur’s court. 
What her name and parentage are you will doubtless inform us later, 
but I have no fear, for I know that she is royal at heart. Therefore, 
according to my promise, I will clothe her for her wedding as never 
maiden was clothed before in Britain; and besides that, the head 
of the white hart is hers, for she is the first bride to be brought to these 
halls since the stag hunt.” 


GLOSSARY 5 


1 . A rmorer, one who makes or repairs armor. 

2. Bower, a lady’s private room. 

3. Hamlet, a small village. 

4. Hart, a male deer, especially after it has 

passed its fifth year. 

5. Helmet, a covering of defensive armor for 

the head. 


G. Lair, the den of a wild animal. 

7. Lance, a long shaft with a spear-head. 

8. Lists, a jousting field. 

9. Prowess, bravery. 

10. Sparroic-hatck, a bird that preys on spar- 
rows or other small birds. 


VI 


OrUtram, J^orest 

“ ‘Tristan, rise. 

Were your sins great as Heaven, yet your love. 

Being greater still, should burn your guilt away.’” 

Lauriston Ward’s “Tristan in Brittany,” 

Arthur reigned in Britain there were many minor kings 
who, though they were allowed to rule over their own coun- 
tries, nevertheless paid him yearly homage, and these men 
had frequent quarrels among themselves. One of these disputes 
arose between King Anguish of Ireland and King Mark of Cornwall 
about some tribute money which, according to the people of Ireland, 
should have been paid every year, but which the people of Cornwall 
had now refused seven times. 

King Anguish, therefore, sent a messenger to King Mark de- 
manding the payment of the gold, by whom Mark returned the 
answer that if Anguish desired the money he must send a champion 
to fight for it. Not long after this, therefore, there arrived at Tin- 
tagel castle, the home of Mark, a valiant man of arms. Sir Marhaus, 
brother to the Queen of Ireland, and one of the knights of King 
Arthur’s Round Table. 

Now that was a condition that Mark had scarcely expected, for 
despite his bluster he was a craven at heart, as were, in fact, all the 
knights of his court, so that they had become known far and wide 
as “the cowardly knights of Cornwall.” It was with a trembling 
spirit, therefore, that he heard the trumpets blown each day at noon 
announcing to all the countryside that Sir Marhaus of Arthur’s 
Round Table was challenging any gentleman of Cornwall to meet 
him in single combat as King Mark’s champion for the tribute money. 

Day after day the call went forth, and day after day there was 

65 


66 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


no response, for those dastardly Cornish knights had hidden them- 
selves away in their strong towers, and the King himself w^oiild rather 
have submitted to any humiliation than put his own precious life 
in jeopardy. But at last one morning, when the story of King Mark’s 
predicament had spread to distant lands, there appeared before the 
harassed monarch a young man, tall of stature and of fair counte- 
nance, who made the following request: 

“Sir King, I am as yet but a squire, although well versed in the 
use of arms. If you will make me knight I will promise to serve you 
faithfully all the days of my life, and to go forth upon whatever 
quests you may see fit to send me.” 

Hearing these words, the King’s eyes gleamed with a crafty 
light, for what he lacked in prowess he made up in cunning, so that 
he was known as Mark the Fox. Then he replied: 

“Young man, if you will promise to fight the first battle I assign 
you, I will make you knight on the spot.” 

To which the youth answered: 

“Willingly, Sire, the first and the last, and all others that may 
come between.” 

Then he knelt and placing his hand in his sovereign’s received 
three strokes with the flat of the King’s sword, and took the holy 
vow of knighthood which bound him in loyalty to Mark for all 
time; after which he arose saying eagerly: 

“And now with whom shall I do battle. Sir King?” 

“Your first fight,” replied Mark, “shall be as my champion for 
the tribute money against Sir Marhaus of Ireland.” 

“Let it be so proclaimed ! ” cried the young man, joyfully brand- 
ishing his sword. 

ILit when Sir Marhaus received the news which he had long 
since ceased to expect — that a champion had been found for Corn- 
wall, he returned the following answer: 

“I will fight with no man that is not of royal blood, son of a 
king or a queen.” 

Now Mark understood full well by this that his enemy was try- 
ing to draw him personally into the combat, and his heart sank 
within him. In great distress, therefore, he sent for his newly-made 
knight and explained the situation to him, whereupon the brave 
young man replied: 


TRISTRAM, THE FOREST KNIGHT 


67 


“Sire, I pray you, give yourself no anxiety. I had hoped to 
keep my identity a secret until I had proved myself; but now I will 
tell you all. I am the son of your sister Elizabeth and of King Meli- 
odas of Lyoness. They call me the forest knight because I was born 
in the deep, dark woods where my mother had wandered in search 
of my father when he had been 
enticed away by the wiles of a 
wicked enchantress. As 3^ou 
know, she died there before find- 
ing him; but with her last breath, 
as she entrusted me to the care 
of a faithful lady in waiting, she 
named me Tristram — the child of 
sorrow. Thus you see I have 
never known a mother’s love; 
nevertheless my father has had 
me carefully trained in the manly 
sports of harping, hunting and 
hawking, as well as in the more 
serious art of the joust and the 
tourney. Therefore, hearing that 
my mother’s country was being 
shamed for lack of a champion, I 
came to present myself; and Sir 
Marhaus need have no fear, for 
my rank is higher than his.” 

Then the King’s foxy old 
heart rejoiced, and arrangements 
were made for the combat to take place on an island near which the 
ships of the Irish knight were anchored. On the day appointed, 
therefore, the two champions, each on horseback, set their spears in 
rest and crashed together with feuch a mighty shock that both were 
thrown to the ground. Then they drew their swords, and throwing 
their shields before them, fought on and on for more than half a day 
until both were severely wounded. At last, however, Tristram was 
able to give his opponent such a stroke that Sir Marhaus’ armor was 
pierced, and the young knight’s sword stuck fast, so that he had 
to pull mightily three times before it could be dislodged. Then Mar- 




68 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


haiis fell to the ground, but recovering himself, threw away his sword 
and his shield, and fled for his life to his ships. 

Thus was the honor of Cornwall saved; for Sir Marhaus, hav- 
ing failed in his mission, set sail at once for Ireland to be cared for 
by his sister, the Queen, who was well versed in the art of healing. 
When his wound was probed, however, a small, jagged piece of the 
steel of Tristram’s sword was found therein, which the Queen, real- 
izing that she was going to be unable, with all her skill, to save her 
brother, put carefully away, vowing that in revenge she would take 
the life of the man into whose weapon it fltted should he ever cross 
her path. Soon after tliis Sir Marhaus died. 

Now when Tristram returned to the mainland victorious, great 
was the rejoicing, and loud were the praises of the people for their 
valiant young champion — so loud, indeed, that King Mark’s jeal- 
ousy was aroused, and he began to fear his nephew as a possible 
rival to the throne. It was with secret joy, therefore, that he realized 
how seriously the young knight had been wounded; for it was found 
that Sir Marhaus, contrary to all the laws of knighthood, had used 
a poisoned spear. So Tristram lay ill for a month or more, and all 
the skill of surgeons and leeches was of little avail until one day 
there came to court a lady who gave the following advice: 

“Let the young knight go to the land from which the deadly 
poison came. There he may be helped, but nowhere else.” 

At this the King was secretly delighted, for he thought to 
himself : 

“If Tristram goes to Ireland, the Queen whose brother he slew 
will see to it that he never escapes alive.” 

But aloud he said: 

“jMake ready my ships, for so help me, I would not that my 
beloved nephew died.” 

- So when all was prepared, Tristram, in the care of his trusted 
serving man Gouvernail, sailed away followed by the good wishes 
of every man and woman in Cornwall save his own uncle who sin- 
cerely hoped never to see him set foot on those shores again. Dur- 
ing the crossing, Tristram, who was too weak to do much else, had 
ample time to think over the situation in which he was soon to find 
himself; and he came to realize that, if his true name were known, 
he would scarcely be a welcome guest at the Irish court. He there- 


TRISTRAM, THE FOREST KNIGHT 


69 


fore decided to present himself as a strolling minstrel called Tram- 
trist of Lyoness who had been accidentally wounded in battle. 

Now, during some years that he had spent in France, Tristram 
had become a very skillful harper, so that when King Anguish heard 
him play he was greatly pleased with the performance, and said: 

“Sir Tramtrist, you are very welcome at our court and to the 
care of our leeches, and of the Queen who is the most skillful of them 
all in the healing of wounds. Then, when you are stronger, we should 
count it an honor if you would consent to give our daughter, the 
Princess Isolda, lessons in harping.” 

So Tristram remained, receiving the ministrations of the Queen, 
and acting as tutor to the beautiful Isolda; and so charmed did he 
become with this latter occupation that he very soon lost all desire 
to return either to his father’s kingdom of Lyoness or to his uncle’s 
court in Cornwall. In fact he was now beginning to dread the time 
when his wound would be completely healed. 

He had not been long, however, in these intimate relations with 
his pupil before he discovered that she was strangely sad for one 
so young and apparently so free from care. One evening, therefore, 
when the twilight had overtaken them in the midst of a lesson, and 
she sat with her golden head leaning against her harp while her white 
fingers idly swept the strings, calling forth from time to time a low 
and plaintive strain, Tristram leaned forward and asked gently: 

“ Princess, will you tell me why it is that you are never merry like 
other maidens?” 

Then the beautiful Isolda sighed and bent her head still lower. 
Presently she said: 

“Ah! Sir Tramtrist, the lot of a king’s daughter may seem to 
other maidens one to be envied, but I assure you that it is hard, 
very hard indeed.” 

“And why so hard. Princess?” inquired the young man. 

She hesitated for a moment, then she said: 

“Sir Tramtrist, I will tell you all. My father has an enemy, a 
mighty Saracen knight called Palamides of whom our whole kingdom 
is in dread. He has sued for my hand; therefore my father, in the 
forlorn hope that some brave man may be found to overcome him, 
has proclaimed a great joust and tournament in which any knight 
that pleases may take part, and for the winning of which I am the 


70 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


prize. You can well understand, then, why I am sad, for I know 
full well that no gentleman of Ireland is able to stand against this 
mighty Saracen, so I shall be given to him to save my country from 
ruin, and carried far away into a heathen land.” 

“Princess,” cried Sir Tristram leaping to his feet, “that shall 
never be! I will fight in this tournament; and rest assured, the love 
I bear you will so strengthen my arm that I will overthrow this man 
though his natural strength be ten times greater than mine.” 

But Isolda only sighed shaking her head, and replied: 

“I wish, Oh! I wish, my teacher, that it might be so; but I fear 
it would never be permitted, for you are but a wandering minstrel 
and Palamides’s rank is very high. Besides, your wound is not yet 
healed.” 

Then the young man drew himself to his full height as he said: 

“As for my wound, fair Princess, it no longer troubles me; and 
as for my rank, I will tell you a part of my secret though I dare not 
as yet tell you all. I am in truth a king’s son, worthy to be matched 
in battle with any man that lives; so I will gladly risk my life in 
this cause. But I ask jmu not to let it be known beforehand that I 
am to take part in this contest.” 

Thus it was arranged between them. 

The great day of the joust arrived. The mighty Palamides rode 
proudly into the field on his black war horse bearing before him an 
enormous black shield. There, on the first day of the tournament, 
he overthrew every knight that dared to come before him until all 
the people marvelled at such feats of prowess. Then he retired, to 
return to the lists the following morning more certain than ever, if 
that were possible, that the fair prize would soon be his. Riding to 
the centre of the field, therefore, he fiourished his sword calling loudly 
for any man who would dare continue the contest. 

For a moment there was an ominous silence, then suddenly the 
postern gate of the castle swung wide and there rode forth upon a 
white horse a knight in snow-white armor. Straight toward Pala- 
mides he came, who instantly put his spear in rest and the two crashed 
together so that the scene appeared to the breathless onlookers like 
a deadly struggle between the powers of Light and the powers of 
Darkness. Long and hard was the combat, but at last the black 
knight was thrown to earth crying: 


TRISTRAM, THE FOREST KNIGHT 


71 


“I yield!” 

Then Tristram standing over him with his sword upraised said 


sternly : 


“Promise me, as you value your life, that you will give up all 
claim to the hand of the Princess Isolda; that you will leave Ireland 
forever in peace; and that for a year and a day you will bear no arms 
in any Christian country.” 

To all of which Palamides replied: 

“I promise; alas! I am shamed forever!” 

After which Tristram allowed him to rise, then he himself rode 
back to the postern gate where Isolda was waiting his coming with 
a strange new light of joy on her face. 

And now there followed happy days for Tristram, the child of 
sorrow, and for Isolda the princess from whose life the shadow of a 
dreaded doom seemed forever lifted. The King and the Queen cher- 
ished their brave young champion as if he had been their own son, 
and despite the mystery in which his birth was still enshrouded, they 
were willing to agree to a union between him and the 'Princess, 
for they felt sure that he spoke the truth when he said that royal 
blood ran in his veins. So the preparations for the wedding pro- 
gressed; and each morning Tristram arose with the intention of 
telling his kind hosts the whole story, and each day his courage 
failed him. 

One afternoon he had gone out, carelessly leaving his sword 
behind him in the room where the Queen and the Princess with their 
maidens were busy upon the wedding garments. Isolda, having bent 
over an embroidery frame until she was weary, rose and stepped 
across the room till she stood by the table where the brand lay. It 
was a beautiful weapon with a bejewelled hilt, and the Princess, 
thinking proudly of all the valiant deeds in which it had figured, 
drew it curiously from its scabbard. Suddenly she exclaimed: 

“Wliy mother, there is a piece broken out from the edge! I 
wonder in what wonderful feat of prowess that happened!” 

At those words, so carelessly spoken, the Queen, dropping her 
work, had sprung to her feet. 

“Let me see,” she cried, almost snatching the sword from her 
daughter’s hand. Then to Isolda’s surprise she rushed toward a box 
where she had secretly hidden the bit of steel that she had taken 


y 




72 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


from her brother’s wound, and with trembling fingers fitted it exactly 
into the gap. 

“At last, at last!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “I have found 
him, the foul knight who slew your uncle. And he shall die, he shall 
die, according to my vow!” 

Not even the snowy wedding gown that had fallen to the ground 
in the excitement was as white as Isolda’s face when she heard those 
words, for she knew well enough how cruel her mother could be 
toward an enemy. In another moment, therefore, she had rushed 
from the room in search of her father, in whose kindliness of dispo- 
sition was her only hope for the salvation of her lover. 

“]\Iy child,” said he gently, “my poor little girl, I will do all 
that lies in my power to save your knight from your mother’s wrath, 
for I am convinced that, tliough he slew your uncle, he did so in 
honorable combat. He should have told us the whole truth when he 
came among us, I admit; nevertheless, I will see to it that he is per- 
mitted to leave our shores in safety, but he must bid farewell to you, 
forever, for now you can never become his wife.” 

So that very day the parting came between Tristram and the 
beautiful Isolda who was so soon to have been his bride. 

“I leave you free, my Princess,” he said, “but for my part I 
will take upon myself such a vow as is made by the noble knights of 
Arthur’s court — to love you only through all the days of my life, and 
to worship you by years of noble deeds though I may never win you. 
Farewell, and remember if ever you are in need of a champion to do 
battle for you, I will come though it be from the ends of the 
earth.” 

So he sailed away. 

Time went on. Tristram, much to the secret annoyance of King 
Mark, returned to Cornwall, where his brave deeds caused him more 
and more to be admired and loved by his uncle’s people; so that the 
old Fox never ceased to ponder upon some method that should appear 
entirely accidental of ridding himself of this troublesome nephew. 

One day in early spring when Mark’s knights were feasting and 
making merry about a lavish board, it chanced that, the air being 
warm, a window was open facing the western sea. Through this 
window there presently flew a swallow carrying in its bill a hair of 


TRISTRAM, THE FOREST KNIGHT 


73 



most brilliant gold, which it deposited on the arm of the King’s chair, 
after which it immediately fluttered out into the sunshine again. 

“By my life!” exclaimed the Fox, “I should like to see the maiden 
from whose head this came. Can any of you tell me where she mav 
be found. ^ ” 

Then the beautiful shining 
thing was passed from one 
knight to the other, and each 
in turn shook his head until it 
came to Tristram, who, as the 
King noticed, had turned very 
pale. Glad would he have been to 
remain silent, but Mark, turning 
the attention of the whole table 
to him, inquired maliciously: 

“Nephew, you appear to 
have some knowledge of this 
matter. Can you by any chance 
inform us whence this thread of 
gold came.^” 

Then Tristram, who would 
have scorned to tell a lie, an- 
swered reluctantly: 

“Sire, I can.” “tue beautiful isolda princess of 

.. . » IRELAND” 

. ''e await your mforma- Portrait. Kaufmann, Budapest. [Courtesy Braun et Cie.] 

tion, said the King. 

And still more slowly and reluctantly came the words from Tris- 
tram’s white lips. 

“Such hair as that. Sire, belongs to but one woman in all the 
world — the beautiful Isolda, Princess of Ireland.” 

At that the old Fox’s heart rejoiced, for he now felt sure that 
he had hit upon a plan that could scarcely fail to bring sorrow, and 
possibly destruction, to his nephew. 

“My noble knights,” said he, “it has suddenly become the de- 
sire of my heart to wed the maiden to whom this glorious hair belongs. 
How many of you are willing to go for me to the court of King Anguish 
and bear my request for her hand?” 

Thereupon there followed a scene that would have acquainted 


74 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


a stranger with the fact, even had he learned it no other way, that 
he was not at Arthur’s court; for each of those cowardly Cornish 
knights began to fumble with the fastening of his sword hoping that 
his neighbor would have his drawn first. To this unknightly con- 
duct, however, just as King Mark had expected, there was one ex- 
ception — Tristram’s brand had leaped from its scabbard as if of its 
own volition and was now being held aloft, while his voice rang out 
clear and strong: 

“The quest. Sir King!” 

At wdiich Mark smiled his crafty smile, and answered: 

“You are willing to do even this for me. Nephew.?” 

Then Tristram, true knight that he was, although he knew in 
what peril of his life he would find himself as soon as he landed on 
Irish shores, and although he realized that death would be as noth- 
ing to him compared with the pain of succeeding in his mission, 
remembered his vow, and answered bravely : 

“Sire, I am.” 

So, within a few days, Tristram set sail for Ireland a second 
time, disguised on this occasion as a merchant selling costly silks 
and samites. And certainly fortune seemed after all to favor him, 
for he chanced to arrive at a time when the whole country was in 
great fear because of a terrible dragon that was devastating the land. 
Once again, therefore, when he looked into the beautiful face of 
Isolda to whose presence he gained admission under pretence of sell- 
ing his wares, he saw that she w’as sad; and he soon learned that 
this time the King had promised her hand to whoever would kill 
the frightful monster. 

Nothing daunted, therefore, he set out one bright morning for 
the forest where the dreaded beast was supposed to have his lair. 
There in the deepest shade of the oldest trees he found him at last 
with his great, scaly body twisted about one of the mighty trunks. 
At the young knight’s approach the ugly head shot forth, and the 
immense jaws snapped open with the evident intention of closing 
again immediately upon the intruder, but instead of that it was 
Tristram’s good sword upon which the tusks came together, and in 
a short time, with a terrible hiss and a tremendous crash, the mon- 
ster fell to the ground and lay motionless. 

For a moment Tristram, still breathing hard from the struggle. 


TRISTRAM, THE FOREST KNIGHT 


75 


stood looking down upon liis prostrate foe. Then, realizing that he 
had no proof of having performed the feat, he drew his brand and 
cut out the creature’s tongue, after which he started on his way back 
to the palace. He had not gone far, however, when a strange faint- 



“WITH A TREMENDOUS CRASH THE MONSTER FELL TO THE GROUND” 

Landscape, Le Dominiquin, London. [Couriesy Braun el Cie.] 


ness overcame him, and a little later he fell senseless by a spring 
where he had gone to seek a cooling draught; for the truth was that 
the tongue which he had wrapped in his garments contained a deadly 
poison. 

Now there was at the court of King Anguish a cowardly steward 
who had long cherished a dream of advancement by marriage with 
the Princess, but who was far too much of a craven to fight either 


76 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


man or beast in her behalf. As fate would have it therefore, it hap- 
pened that this man, wandering through the forest, came accidentally 
upon the body of the dragon whose head he valiantly cut off, after 
which he presented himself before the King as the hero who had 
delivered Ireland. But neither King nor Queen nor Princess believed 
his story, and a search party was therefore sent out to make investi- 
gations. After a day or two this party returned, carrying the uncon- 
scious form of the merchant which they had come across in their 
wanderings. 

While there was still no proof, the King and the whole court 
soon became convinced that this stranger was the true hero; and 
although in nursing him back to health the Queen soon recognized 
him as Tristram qf Cornwall, the slayer of her brother, she was 
nevertheless prevailed upon by the entreaties of both husband and 
daughter to forego her revenge and spare the young man’s life. 

At last the great day came when the court had assembled to 
witness the awarding of Isolda’s hand to him who had killed the 
dragon; and, as all had expected, the steward was the first to step 
forward to claim the fair prize. 

“What proof have you.?” demanded the King with a sinking 
heart. 

“Sire, this head,” replied the steward, displaying the ghastly 
trophy. 

Then Tristram, who had been standing quietly in the back- 
ground, now made his way to the front, and cried aloud: 

“Your Majesty, he. speaks falsely! Bid your men, I pray you, 
open the monster’s jaws. They will find no tongue therein.” 

The men did as they were bidden, whereupon Tristram’s serv- 
ing man stepped forward bearing the ugly, forked tongue and fitted 
it exactly into the beast’s mouth. Then all the people shouted for 
joy; for they had loved this young knight in the old days; and even 
the Queen’s heart was softened toward him. 

So, as the ladies and gentlemen of the court stood circling about 
the throne, and the beautiful Isolda sat by the side of her parents 
with flushed cheeks and lowered eyes, the King arose to make the 
])roclamation which would so have gladdened the heart of Tristram 
had his mission been other than it was: 

“Sir Knight, you have once again proved yourself the savior of 


TRISTRAM, THE FOREST KNIGHT 


77 


our beloved land of Ireland. The hand of the Princess is therefore 
yours. Do you claim the prize 

The blush upon Isolda’s cheeks had deepened, and her head was 
bent still lower as she waited with beating heart for the reply of her 
hero who had now risked his life for her a second time. Presently, 
as if from some great distance, in a harsh, strained voice that she 
could scarcely believe to be that of her old tutor’s, these words reached 
her ears: 

“Sire, I claim the hand of the Princess Isolda for my uncle. 
King Mark of Cornwall, who has sent me here to seek her as his 
bride.” 

There was silence. Swiftly through the mind of both King and 
Queen there passed the same thought: “This marriage would be an 
advantage to the country, and would settle forever, as no fighting 
could do, the vexed question of the tribute money.” Presently turn- 
ing toward his daughter, therefore. King Anguish said: 

“Isolda, the honor done you is greater than we had supposed. 
A king will make a better husband for you than an ordinary knight.” 

Which words were echoed by the Queen: “Ah! yes, a king will 
make a better husband than an ordinary knight.” 

Then the Princess, rising in her place, turned flashing eyes of 
scorn upon KingMark’s emissary and answered with proudly lifted head: 

“Certainly, a king will make a better husband for me than an 
ordinary knight.” 

Whereupon Tristram, the deathly pallor of whose face now 
matched her own, bowed low and retired to make his preparations 
for the departure. 

Within a few days the little ship bearing King Mark’s unwilling 
bride to Tintagel castle was tossing upon the waves of the Irish sea. 
All during the strange journey Tristram, loyal as ever to his uncle, 
had kept himself apart from the Princess whose anger was so kindled 
at his apparently inexplicable conduct that she in her turn had made 
no attempt to communicate with him in any way. And now the 
end, so dreaded by both, was drawing near. 

It happened, however, that the Queen, fearing that after all her 
daughter’s heart was still with the young knight, and being con- 
cerned, despite her ambition, for the maiden’s happiness, had used 
all her art in preparing a magic love potion which she had intrusted 


78 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


to the care of Isolda’s maid with strict injunctions that it should be 
given to the Princess when she and Mark were alone together, so 
that the maiden’s eyes should rest upon her future husband at the 
moment of drinking. But it also happened that Isolda too had 
brewed a potion which was a deadly draught, the swallowing of which 
would result in instant death. 

Now, as the turrets of Tintagel castle began to loom out of the 
mist, the Princess turned suddenly to her maid with the command : 

“Bring me the small flask that lies upon my table.” 

But the faithful maid, having caught the desperate look in 
Isolda’s eyes, suspected the truth, and with the wild hope of saving 
her young mistress substituted the Queen’s philtre for the one for 
which the Princess was calling. 

Hastily Isolda took the cup from the girl’s hand, and turning 
so that her dying e^^es might rest upon her hero who was standing 
in the prow of the boat gazing sadly toward the fast approaching 
Cornish shore, raised it to her lips. Instantly, as if in some mystic 
way he knew what was happening, Tristram turned and beheld what 
he believed to be the maiden’s desperate deed. In another moment 
he had reached her side, snatched the fateful goblet from her shak- 
ing fingers, and drained the liquid that she had left to the last drop. 
Then as the glass dropped from his hand, the pair of ill-starred lovers 
stood looking into each other’s eyes awaiting death. 

One, two, three long minutes passed while the draught was tak- 
ing its unexpected effect; for, instead of the chill of death there 
began to sweep through their veins a wonderful tingle of life and 
happiness beyond all that their imagination could have conceived. 
Suddenly, realizing at last what had happened, and knowing that 
they now loved each other ten times more than ever, the cry burst 
simultaneously from their lips: 

“Tristram!” 

“Isolda!” 

And at that moment the ship’s keel ground upon the beach. 

Then slowly and painfully the memory of things as they were 
returned to them; and Tristram, reverently taking Isolda’s white 
hand in his said gently: 

“Princess, the honor of my knighthood binds me to fulfill in 
letter and in spirit any mission upon which I am sent by him who 


TRISTRAM, THE FOREST KNIGHT 


79 


made me knight. If I failed in this I should not be worthy of you. 
Within a few moments, therefore, I shall deliver you into the keep- 
ing of King Mark as whose honored Queen I pray you may find hap- 
piness. After that I shall ride away and seek adventure as a brave 
knight should. But once again at this, our second parting, I repeat 
the promise that I made you long ago — to love you only through all 
the days of my life, and to worship you by years of noble deeds 
though I may never hope to win you. Farewell, and remember that, 
should you ever need a champion, I will come.” 

Again the weary years crept on, and Queen Isolda lived a sad 
and lonely life in her high tower of Tintagel castle looking out upon 
the Irish Sea; for King Mark proved no kinder as a husband than 
he had proved as an uncle. In fact his sole reason for seeking the 
Irish Princess in marriage had been to cause pain to his nephew 
and drive him from Cornwall. 

From time to time news reached Tintagel of the brave deeds 
done at Arthur’s court by a knight that had lately come there — 
a certain Sir Tristram of Lyoness whose reputation for prowess was 
fast becoming almost as great as the mighty Launcelot’s. Then 
Queen Isolda’s sad heart beat with pride, for she knew that her cham- 
pion was being true to his vow. 

King Mark, however, was beloved neither by his own people nor 
by the monarchs of neighboring lands, so it happened that his troubles 
with Ireland were not the only difficulties in which he managed 
to get himself entangled. When he and Isolda had been married 
some years, therefore, it chanced that Tintagel castle was besieged 
by the Saxons under a captain named Elias who was a good man of 
arms. As usual, when the challenge came to single combat, Mark 
refused to risk his own life, as did all the cowardly knights of Corn- 
wall. At last one of them made the following valiant suggestion; 

“Sire, send to Arthur’s court for a champion; for he has prom- 
ised, as is well known, to drive the heathen from the land.” 

Accordingly, one day when Arthur’s court was in session at 
Camelot, there arrived a messenger from King Mark. The moment 
the man had ceased speaking after presenting his plea, every sword 
in the old hall was pointed upward, while the cry so often heard 
within those walls rang out strong and clear: 


80 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“The quest, Sir King!” 

Arthur looked about among that goodly fellowship until his eye 
rested upon Tristram, whose relation to the Cornish king was known 
to him. Then, with an inclination of the head, he assigned to him 
the quest. 

So Tristram, rejoicing that once again he was to have an 
opportunity of serving Isolda, rode away to Cornwall with a 
gladder heart than he had known in many a day. 

There, in single combat, he met Elias and overthrew him, while 
jMark and his valiant knights remained bravely behind the sheltering 
walls of the castle. But, so helpless is man to escape his doom, 
although Tristram came forth from the encounter unharmed, a stray 
arrow shot at random by one of the Saxon soldiers hit King Mark, 
so that he died soon after of the wound. 

Then the people of Cornwall, in whose hearts Tristram had 
always lived as a hero, proclaimed him King in his uncle’s stead; 
and the beautiful Isolda, after the long j’cars of their separation, 
became his wife. 

When the wedding ceremonies were at an end, the newly made 
monarch set out for Arthur’s court to pay homage and to present 
his bride; and when they reached Camelot it was discovered that 
the siege which had formerly belonged to Sir Marhaus, the man who 
had disgraced his knighthood by using a poisoned spear, bore a new 
inscription in letters of shining gold: 

“Tins IS THE Seat of the Noble Kxight, Sir Tristram.” 


GLOSSARY 6 


1. Brand, a sword. 

2. Brandish, to wave or shake a weapon. 

3. Challenge, to invite to combat. 

4. Craven, a coward. 

5. Dastardly, cowardly. 

6. Emissary, a person sent on a mission. 

7. Feat, an achievement. 

8. Homage, the ceremony of professing fealty. 

9. Leech, a physician. 

10. Lists, the field of tournaments. 

11. Minstrel, a musician, poet and singer. 

12. Philtre, a charmed liquid supposed to have 

the power of exciting love. 


13. Potion, a liquid; frequently like the above. 

14. Postern gate, the back gate. 

15. Prowess, bravery. 

16. Samite, a cloth like satin, with glistening 

threads of silver and gold. 

17. Saracen, a name adopted by the Arabs 

after their settlement in Europe. 

18. Scabbard, the sheath of a sword. 

19. Siege, a seat. 

20. Tribute, money paid as an acknowledg- 

ment of submission. 

21. Trophy, anything taken from an enemy 

and treasured as a proof of victory. 


/ 


VII 


Adventures of Cauncelot 

“His honor rooted in dishonor stood, 

And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.” 

Tennyson’s “Lancelot and Elaine.” 

^ ^f^ITH prancing steeds and waving plumes and glittering arms, 
King Arthur and his gallant knights had ridden away 
to Camelot where the last great “diamond joust” was 
to be held. 

For eight years past this joust had been an annual occurrence; 
for Arthur, long before he became King, once while roaming through 
the trackless realms of Lyonesse had stumbled unawares in the misty 
moonshine upon the skeleton of a long-forgotten king still wearing his 
crown. This diadem of richly wrought gold, decorated with nine 
diamonds — one in front and four on each side, he had placed upon 
his boyish head; and as he did so had seemed to hear within him the 
murmur of a voice saying: 

“Lo, thou likewise shalt be king.” 

And years after, when that mystic prophecy had been fulfilled, 
he had removed the gems from the crown and showed them to his 
knights, exclaiming: 

“These jewels which I chanced upon are the kingdom’s, not the 
King’s. Therefore, let there be once every year a joust for one of 
them. Thus by nine years’ proof we shall learn which is the mightiest 
man among us.” 

So for eight years the tourney had been held; and Launcelot liad 
won the diamond each time, with the intention of presenting the 
entire nine to the Queen when all should be his. 

But a rumor had gone abroad, doubtless started in jealousy, that 
it was no longer by his prowess alone that the mighty Launcelot was 

81 


82 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 



able to perform such feats of arms, but by the terror which his very 
name inspired. Whereupon the proud knight had decided upon a 
course that should forever silence that slander. 

When the King and his knights rode off, therefore, Launcelot 
remained behind pleading as his excuse a wound lately received in 
battle which had not yet healed. But towards noon he got himself 
quickly to horse, and, avoiding the beaten thoroughfare, chose the 

green, unfrequented paths until, 
as the sun was setting, he saw on 
a far hill outlined against the 
golden glory of the west the 
towers of Astolat Castle. 

To this old fortress, realizing 
that he must needs seek harborage 
for the night, he made his way; 
and wound the great horn that 
hung by the gate. Presently there 
appeared in response an old and 
wrinkled servitor, who, without 
speaking a word yet made the 
errant knight feel that he was 
welcome, and disarmed him. 
Thereupon there issued from an 
inner apartment the Lord of 
Astolat himself with his two stal- 
wart sons. Sir Torre and Sir La- 
vaine; and close behind them 
shyly stepped the one lady of 
the house. Lord Astolat’s mo- 
therless daughter — the Lily Maid Elaine. 

“Whence do you come, my guest, and what is your nanie.?^” in- 
quired the master of the castle. “Surely, judging by your appearance, 
you are one of the knights that follow the great White King.” 

To which Launcelot replied: 

“Yes, I come from Arthur’s Hall, and am one of the Round 
Table; but I beg you not to ask my name, for I am at this moment 
on my way to Camelot to joust for the great diamond; and for 
certain reasons I wish to enter the lists in disguise. Yet I have made 


THE TOWERS OF ASTOLAT CASTLE 
Landscape, Ruysdael, Old Masters 

[ Courtesy Braun et Cie.] 



THE ADVENTURES OF LAUNCELOT 


83 


the mistake of bringing with me my shield by which I should be 
immediately recognized. I pray you, therefore, if you have such an 
one, to lend me a scutcheon that is still blank, or at least one that 
bears some other device than my own.” 

“Willingly, stranger knight,” said the Lord of Astolat. “Here 
is my son Torre’s who was hurt in his first tilt, so that his shield is 
blank enough. You can have that.” 

Presently all five passed into the castle and sat down to a board 
where the very best of meats and vintage had been brought forth 
for the entertainment of the guest. There, at the earnest request of 
Lavaine, who had suddenly become fired with boundless admiration 
for the great man, Launcelot was led on to talk of Arthur and his 
Round Table and his wonderful wars; and while he talked the Lily 
Maid sat by, a silent listener, until his princely bearing and gracious 
courtesy had completely won her heart. At last she raised her eyes 
to his face, bronzed and worn with care, and scarred with many a 
soul conflict between right and wrong, “and loved him with that 
love which was her doom.” 

It had been decided, much to Lavaine’s delight, that he should 
accompany the stranger to the lists and himself take part in the 
tournament. Early the next morning, therefore, Elaine arose en- 
deavoring to deceive herself into the belief that she wished to bid 
farewell to her brother before his departure. So it happened that 
as she glided down the tower stairs she passed Lavaine on his way 
to get his brother’s blank shield and thus came upon the stranger 
knight alone as he stood with his back toward her stroking the glossy 
shoulder of his proud charger. At the sound of her light footfalls 
he turned suddenly, more amazed to see the maiden standing there in 
the dewy light of dawn than if seven men had set upon him at once. 

In fact he had not dreamed before that she was so beautiful; 
and now a sort of sacred fear took possession of him, for though he 
greeted her she still remained silent with her rapt gaze fixed upon 
him as if she were looking into the face of a god. And at that look, 
coming through her innocent eyes straight from her spotless soul, a 
swift flush mantled Launcelot’s cheek, for he knew that he was un- 
worthy of such homage, and he murmured sadly to himself : 

“Alas! I am not great, ‘save it be some far-off touch of great- 
ness to know well I am not great. 


84 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Presently, mustering all her courage, the maiden began to speak: 

“Great lord, whose name I do not know, although I believe it 
is the noblest, will you wear my favor in this tourney?” 

Then Launcelot scarcely knew how to answer her, for before his 
eyes there passed the radiant vision of another whose favor he might 
never wear. Presently he said, turning away that he might not see 
her disappointment: 

“Fair damsel, that would be against my custom. I never yet 
have worn the token of any lady in the lists, as all who know me are 
well aware.” 

“Then in wearing mine,” continued Elaine, made strangely bold 
by her great desire, “there will be the lesser likelihood of your being 
recognized.” 

“That is true, my child,” replied Launcelot, suddenly perceiving 
wisdom in the suggestion. “I will wear it. Run and fetch it for 
me.” 

So she disappeared, to return presently with a red velvet sleeve 
beautifully embroidered with shining pearls which she bound upon 
his helmet. When this was done, he looked down upon her smilingly 
and said: 

“Never yet have I done so much for any maiden living.” 

At which words the color sprang into her cheeks with delight, 
but quickly vanished again leaving her a Lily IMaid indeed. 

By this time, however, Lavaine had returned with Torre’s shield, 
and the two knights made ready to depart. 

“Do me the grace, my child, to keep my shield till I come back,” 
said Launcelot taking the unblazoned scutcheon and handing his 
own, upon whch there gleamed the famous azure lions in jewelled 
splendor, to the fair Elaine. 

Then Lavaine kissed his sister’s pale cheeks, and the stranger 
knight kissed her hand in courtier fashion. After which they spurred 
their chargers and were soon lost to sight as they dipped below the 
downs. 

Thus it came about that — 

“Elaine the fair, Elaine the lovable, 

Elaine the lily-maid of Astolat, 

High in her chamber up a tower to the east, 

Guarded the sacred shield of Launcelot.” 


THE ADVENTURES OF LAUNCELOT 


85 


And there, spending her days in sweet dreams and vain imagin- 
ings, she placed the shield where the first glint of sunrise might strike 
the jewelled lions and awaken her with its glory. After a while, how- 
ever, fearing that the precious thing might become rusted or soiled, 
she fashioned for it a silken case upon which she embroidered the 
devices which were blazoned on the scutcheon itself; and as she 
worked she made a story to herself of every dint a sword had beaten 
in it, and every scratch a lance had made upon it. 

Aleanwhile the two knights rode on their way toward Camelot, 
and as they drew near to the lists Launcelot thought it best to reveal 
his name to his companion. 

“Launcelot of the Lake! The great Launcelot!” murmured the 
youth in awed voice. “x\t last I have my wish! I have seen Britain’s 
greatest knight, and now if I might also behold her White King, the 
mighty Arthur Pendragon, though I were stricken blind the next 
moment, I should be satisfied.” 

Launcelot smiled at this boyish enthusiasm, but made no reply 
save to wave his hand toward the jousting field which they were 
already entering. There Lavaine beheld, like a rainbow fallen upon 
the grass, a great half-round gallery filled with gorgeously attired 
spectators. But his eyes wandered past all this until they rested 
upon the royal throne where the clear-faced King sat robed in red 
samite, easily distinguished by the presence all about him of the 
emblem of the house of Pendragon; for— 

“ — to his crown the golden dragon clung, 

And down his robe the dragon writhed in gold, 

And from the carven-work behind him crept 
Two dragons gilded, sloping down to make 
Arms for his chair, while all the rest of them 
Thro’ knots and loops and folds innumerable 
Fled ever thro’ the woodwork, till they found 
The new design wherein they lost themselves, 

Yet witli all ease, so tender was the work.” 

Above his head was set a costly canopy ornamented with a carven 
flower whose heart was the wonderful diamond which was to be the 
prize of the day. 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


8 () 


Presently the trumpets blew, and both sides, those that held the 
lists and those that were the assailants, set their spears in rest, struck 
their spurs, and suddenly moved forward to meet in the centre of 
the field with such a furious shock that the hard earth shook beneath 
them. 

Launcelot, however, remained apart for a while until he saw 
which side was the w^eaker, then he hurled himself against the stronger 
which happened to be his own order of the Round Table. And little 
need is there to speak of his prowess, for king, duke, earl, count, baron 
— whoever he smote he overthrew. 

There were, however, in the field that day many of his own 
relatives. These strong men now became angered at the thought 
that a stranger should do, and almost outdo, the deeds of their val- 
iant kinsman; but one of them said: 

“Do you know, I believe it is our cousin Launcelot in disguise.” 

To which another replied: 

“No, that cannot be, for Launcelot never yet has worn a lady’s 
token in the lists.” 

Then a fury seemed to seize them — a fiery family passion for 
the glory of the mighty Launcelot; and suddenly, like the wild waves 
of the North Sea, they pricked their steeds and bore down upon the 
knight with the red sleeve, seeking by the weight of men and horses 
to overwhelm him. Presently Launcelot’s noble charger was lamed, 
and he himself wounded by a lance which pierced through shield and 
mail, and then snapped leaving its head buried in his side. 

Fortunately, however, Lavaine had seen his beloved hero fall. 
With one terrible blow, therefore, he overthrew a knight of old repute 
and brought the man’s horse to where Launcelot lay, who, despite 
the agony of his wound, mounted and managed in a way that seemed 
to the onlookers like a miracle to drive his kith and kin, and all the 
Round Table, back to the barrier. Thereupon the heralds blew pro- 
claiming that the prize belonged to the stranger knight who wore 
the scarlet, pearl embroidered sleeve. 

At this his side cried aloud in triumph: 

“Advance, and take your prize, the largest diamond of the nine!” 

To which the victor replied : 

“Do not talk to me of diamonds, but give me air; nor of prizes, 
for my prize is death!” 


THE ADVENTURES OF LAUNCELOT 


87 


And with that he and young Lavaine suddenly wheeled their 
horses, and vanished from the field into a nearby poplar grove. There 
Launcelot slid from his horse and sat gasping until a kindly hermit who 
lived near carried him into his grotto where he and Lavaine managed 
to stanch the wound. So in that peaceful spot, far from the world’s 
rumor, the mighty Launcelot, the darling of the court, lay for many 
weeks in daily doubt whether he would live or die. 

But on the day when the victor had thus fled the lists, Arthur, 
sorely troubled because the valiant stranger had been too badly 
wounded to take his prize, and fearing in his heart that the dis- 
guised knight was Launcelot after all, called Sir Gawain to his side 
and said: 

“The victor must not go uncared for. Ride forth, therefore, and 
find him; for wounded and wearied as he is, he cannot have gone 
far. And take also the diamond and deliver it into his hands, then 
return and bring me word how he fares.” 

So Gawain rode through the region round about touching at all 
points except the poplar grove until he was wearied of the quest. In 
his wanderings, however, it chanced that he came one day to Astolat. 

The moment the fair Elaine’s eyes rested upon his arms she 
guessed him to be one of Arthur’s knights and cried out: 

“What news from Camelot, lord.^ What of the knight with the 
red sleeve.^” 

“He won — ” 

“I knew it!” broke in the maiden. 

“ — but departed from the lists with a great w^ound in his side,” 
continued Gawain. 

At which she caught her breath as if she herself felt the pain of 
the cruel lance. At that moment, however, the Lord of Astolat ap- 
peared, who, having heard Ga wain’s story, said kindly: 

“Stay with us, noble Prince, and give up this tiresome search. 
The knight whom you seek was here just before the tournament and 
left his shield with my daughter. Furthermore, my son Lavaine is 
with him, so that sooner or later we shall surely learn his where- 
abouts.” 

Then Gawain, hearing that the mysterious knight’s shield was 
here at Astolat, asked to see it; and when he perceived the familiar 
azure lions crowned with gold, he cried mockingly: 


88 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“Right was the King! Our Launcelot after all!” 

To which the maiden smilingly answered: 

“And I was right too, for I dreamed that my knight was the 
greatest of the Round Table.” 

“Your knight!” exclaimed Gawain in surprise. 

Then the Lily Maid’s cheeks turned rosy-red, and she re- 
plied: 

“I call him mine because he wore my token — my scarlet sleeve 
embroidered with pearls.” 

At this Gawain perceived that the damsel loved the mighty 
Launcelot with all her heart; and suspecting, though quite wrongly, 
that she knew where he was hidden, said to her: 

“Fair maiden, let me leave my quest with you; and the diamond 
also, for, if you love, it will be sweet to give it, and if he love it will 
be sweet to have it from your own hands, and whether he love or 
not, a diamond is a diamond. Farewell; perhaps some day we shall 
meet at court, and learn to know each other better.” 

Then, kissing the white hand which received the gem, he leapt 
on his charger; and, faithless to his trust, carolling a love ballad, 
lightly rode away. 

After which the Maid of Astolat crept to her father’s side, arid 
gently stroking his grey hair said: 

“Father, you call me wilful, but the fault is yours for you have 
always allowed me to have my own way. Now I have come to ask 
you to let me go in search of Lavaine and of that other to whom I 
must deliver this diamond, otherwise I should be faithless as that 
proud prince who left his quest to me. 

Long the old man hesitated, but at last he saitl: 

“Yes, you are indeed a wilful child. Yet I myself would like to 
learn of the knight’s welfare; and besides, as you say, you have the 
diamond.” 

So, having won her suit, the wilful maiden one fair morning, 
with her brother Torre as a guide, rode toward Canielot before whose 
mystic gate they met Lavaine. At his sister’s earnest request he led 
her across the poplar grove to the cave of the hermit upon the rough 
wall of which she beheld I.<auncelot’s helmet, with her scarlet sleeve, 
now cut and torn, streaming from it still. In an inner room lay the 
great knight himself, gaunt and wasted, scarcely more than the skele- 


THE ADVENTURES OF LAUNCELOT 


89 


ton of his former self; so that at the sight a cry of pity burst from 
Elaine’s lips. 

Then through many a weary day and wearier night she minis- 
tered to him until at last there came a glad hour when the wise her- 
mit told her that her faithful care had saved his life; and all during 
that time Launcelot reproached himself bitterly because it was im- 
possible for him to repay her with aught but a brother’s love. 

When he was able to sit in the saddle he rode with Lavaine and 
the maiden to Astolat to stay until he had regained a little more of 
his former strength. At last, however, the time came when he felt 
that he must return to the King’s service; and wishing to give as 
little pain as possible to one to whom he owed so much he reminded 
Elaine gently of the great difference in their ages, and told her that 
this love of hers was but the first flash in youth which she would soon 
forget when her own true knight should appear. 

“And if this knight of yours should be poor,” he added, “I will 
endow you with broad land and territory, even to the half of my 
realm beyond the sea; and in all your quarrels I will be your cham- 
pion. But more than this I cannot.” 

While he had been speaking, the Lily Maid, growing paler and 
paler, had leaned for support against the garden seat. At his last 
words, she exclaimed; 

“Of all this will I have nothing!” Then she fell swooning and 
was borne away to her chamber in the tower. 

It happened, however, that the Lord of Astolat had overheard 
their conversation; and although he knew that Launcelot’s conduct 
had been blameless, nevertheless he said to him sorrowfully: 

“You are too courteous, my Lord; if you would use some rough- 
ness before you go, to blunt or break her love, all might yet be well.” 

To which the chivalrous Launcelot replied: 

“That were against me; but what I can do I will.” 

Accordingly, towards evening, he sent for his shield; then, 
although he knew by a little clinking sound that Elaine’s casement 
was flung back, and that she was gazing down upon his helmet from 
which her sleeve was now gone, yet he did not glance up, nor wave 
his hand, nor bid farewell, but sadly rode away. And this was the 
one discourtesy that he used. 

Then a dark cloud settled down upon the once sunny home at 


90 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Astolat; for the Lily Maid, sitting alone in her tower gazing at the 
case of Laiincelot’s shield — as empty now as her own life— drooped 
day by da 3 ^ And during that time she made a little song which she 
sang in the evenings to the accompaniment of moaning winds: 

“Sweet is true love tho’ given in vain, in vain; 

And sweet is death who puts an end to pain: 

I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. 

“Love, art thou sweet? then bitter death must be: 

Love thou art bitter; sweet is death to me. 

Oh, Love, if death be sweeter, let me die. 

“Sweet love, that seems not made to fade away; 

Sweet death, that seems to make us loveless clay, 

I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. 

“I fain would follow love, if that could be; 

I needs must follow death, who calls for me; 

Call and I follow, I follow'! let me die!” 

So her heartbroken father and brothers watched her growing 
hourly more like the ethereal blossom whose name she bore, until 
Torre broke out into bitter words against him who had brought all 
this trouble upon their house. To which the gentle sister replied: 

“Brother, it is no more Launcelot’s fault not to love me than it 
is mine to love him as I do. And it is my glory to have loved the 
greatest, the most stainless, of all King Arthur’s knights; so I am 
not altogether comfortless although my love has no return.” 

Then she besought Lavaine to write a letter w'ord for word as 
she dictated it to him, and when that w'as done she made her last 
request : 

“Father, a little while before I die, place this letter in my hand, 
1 pray you. Then w'hen the breath has left my body, clothe me in 
my richest raiment, and deck my bed with coverings as beautiful as 
the Queen’s; then drape our barge like a funeral pall and lay me upon 
it to be rowed by our old dumb servitor to King Arthur’s court. And 
let ns go alone, I beseeeh you; for none could speak for me so elo- 
quently as my own silent self.” 


THE ADVENTURES OF LAUNCELOT 


91 


Her father, able less than ever to deny his wilful child, promised; 
and eleven daj s later, with her thin hand holding her precious letter, 
she closed her eyes for the last time. And that day there was 
dole in Astolat. 

One beautiful morning, therefore, when the blue of the skies was 
mirrored in the waters of the river that flowed by Camelot, the two 



A BLACK BARGE CAME SAILING TOWARD THEM 

Seascape, Turner, London [Courtesy Braun el Ci'e.] 


armed soldiers who guarded the palace door were amazed to behold 
a black barge come sailing toward them. On this barge, in a shroud 
of purest white, wrapped to her waist in cloth of gold, bearing in one 
hand a letter and in the other a fair white lily, with her beautiful face 
framed in her unbound hair, lay a maiden who seemed to them to 
be fast asleep. In their wonder they attempted to question the 
oarsman, but when they found that he would not, or could not, 
answer, they cried in alarm remembering a prophecy of Merlin’s 
which had been whispered about the court: 



92 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“He is enchanted, he cannot speak! And she — look how she 
sleeps! Surely she is the Fairy Queen who has come to take our King 
to fairy land.” 

But while they babbled thus the King himself appeared, and 
with him some of his knights who, at his command, reverently lifted 
the maiden and bore her into the great hall. Presently Gawain came 
to gaze sadly upon her beautiful face; then Launcelot, in bitter remorse 
saying to himself : 

“Would to God, Elaine, that I had died for thee.” 

And last of all the Queen with her maidens. It was Arthur, 
however, who first discovered the letter in her hand, and who, having 
broken the seal read aloud : 

“Most noble lord, Sir Launcelot of the Lake, 

I, sometimes call’d the Maid of Astolat, 

Come, for you left me taking no fdrewell, 

Hither, to take my last farewell of you. 

I loved you, and my love had no return, 

And therefore my true love has been my death. 

And therefore to our lady Guinevere, 

And to all other ladies I make moan. 

Pray for my soul, and yield me burial. 

Pray for my soul thou too. Sir Launcelot, 

As thou art a knight peerless.” 

While he read the ladies of the court wept bitterly; and many, 
the Queen among them, turned reproachful glances upon the sorrow- 
stricken Launcelot, who, when he had* recovered himself sufficiently 
to speak, said sadly; 

“My liege Lord, and all you that hear, let me tell you how much 
I grieve for this gentle maiden’s death, for she was true and sweet 
beyond even my old belief in womanhood, and loved me with a love 
beyond the love of any other woman I have ever known. Yet at 
my years, however it may be in youth, to be loved does not cause 
one to love in return. And I swear, my King, by the honor of my 
knighthood, that I gave her no cause willingly for such affection, as 
her own father and brothers will testify.” 

“Yet, Sir Knight,” interrupted the Queen. “It seems to me that 


THE ADVENTURES OF LAUNCELOT 


93 


you might have shown her some little kindness that would have 
prevented her death.” 

“Your Majesty,” replied Launcelot, “you force me to speak 
plainly. She would not be content unless I wedded her. That I, 
who long ago took the King’s most holy vow to love one only, could 
never do. All that I could I offered her; but she would none of it, 
and so, alas! she died.” 

Then, at Arthur’s command, the pure Sir Percival lifted the 
maiden and bore her to the richest shrine in all the realm, and with 
gorgeous obsequies, to the rolling music of the mass, while the King 
and his court stood around, they lowered her beautiful head into the 
dust of half-forgotten kings. 

Later a costly tomb was raised above her resting place upon 
which was set her image with a carved lily in her hand and the shield 
of Launcelot at her feet, while blazoned in letters of gold and azure 
was the account of her sad voyage for all true hearts to read. 

Such is the story of Elaine and the mighty knight Sir Launcelot 
of the Lake, whose “Honor rooted in dishonor stood, and whose faith 
unfaithful kept him falsely true;” for when he turned away from the 
tomb he passed out alone into the night to mourn, and to wrestle 
with his troubled spirit, “not knowing he should die a holy man.” 


GLOSSARY 7 


1. Azure, a clear blue; the blue of the sky. 

2. Barrier, the palisades enclosing the ground 

for a tournament. 

3. Blazoned, decorated wuth heraldic devices. 

4 . Can opy, a covering suspended over a thi'one. 

5. Charger, a war-horse. 

G. Diadem, a crowm. 

7. Dole, grief, mourning, lamentation. 

8. Errant Knight, one who roved about in 

search of adventure. 


9. Favor, something presented by a lady to 
her knight to be worn on his helmet at a 
tournament or in battle. 

10. Holy Man, a monk. 

11. Obsequies, the burial service. 

12. Scutcheon, a shield. 

13. Tilt, a joust between two knights. 

14. Token, same as favor. 

15. Vintage, wine. 


VIII 


Ol)e iDolorous Stroke 

“And there with morning Merlin came. 

And on the tomb that told their fame 
He wrote by Balan’s Balen’s name, 

And gazed thereon, and wept.” 

Swtneburne’s “Tale of Balen.” 

O NCE when Arthur was holding his court at Caerleon, up to 
the castle gate there rode a messenger from our old acquaint- 
ance, King Rience of North Wales. This was the giant, you 
will remember, from whose clutches Arthur had rescued poor old 
King Leodogran of Cameliard, thus winning for himself, not only 
glory, but what was far more precious to him — his beautiful bride 
Guinevere. Rience, it would appear, had by this time somewhat 
forgotten the lesson taught him then by Britain’s young overlord, for 
he w'as once again worrying about that famous mantle of his whose 
fringe still lacked the twelfth king’s beard with wdiich the old giant 
wished to trim it. 

So the message now came to Arthur, much as it had come to 
Leodogran long ago: 

“If you do not send me your beard peaceably and of your own 
accord, I wdll march against you with a great army and take it ami 
your head along wdth it. So beware ! ” 

At that threat, however, Arthur and all his knights broke into a 
merry laugh. 

“Tell your master,” said he to the messenger, “that I am not yet 
old enough to have a beard worth sending, but tell him also that if 
he wants it, such as it is, he can come and fight for it.” 

After which Arthur, having many more important things to 
think about, completely forgot the matter for a time. Some weeks 
later, however, when the court had removed to Camelot, Arthur’s 


94 


THE DOLOROUS STROKE 


95 


favorite capital — the dim rich city of shadowy palaces — news came 
that Rience was marching in that direction with his great army of 
giants, burning and slaying the King’s loyal subjects as he came. 

Thereupon Arthur sent out the alarm, and there gathered to- 
gether from far and near all the nobleman of Britain, ever ready at 
a moment’s notice to flock to the standard of their Leige Lord and 
crush the enemy. 

One day, therefore, when this great company of knights was 
assembled in the King’s council-chamber planning the campaign 
against Rience there suddenly appeared among them a maiden wearing 
an immense sword. 

“Damsel,” said Arthur, according to his custom stopping all 
proceedings to listen to the plea of one in trouble, “why are you thus 
armed Are there not brave knights enough in my kingdom to 
champion the cause of all fair ladies in distress? This is a reproach 
to me; for did not I promise the Lady of the Lake when she gave me 
Excalibur that I would make the land so safe that no maiden should 
ever again need to bear a weapon.^ ” 

“Sire” replied the damsel sadly, “I wear this sword because I 
cannot take it off. It was put on me by enchantment; and I have 
been told that one of the knights here at your court is the only person 
in all the world who can ever draw it from its scabbard, and thus set 
me free from the curse.” 

“Doubtless, maiden, you have been correctly informed,” said 
Arthur with just a touch of pride in his voice, “for where in all the 
world are there such knights as mine?” 

Then he called his following about him, and told them, beginning 
at the youngest and least proven, to try in turn this adventure of the 
sword. 

So they came, those stalwart young fellows, and pulled and tugged 
without success until the maiden said wearily: 

“A"ou need not try so hard. He who can draw it at all can draw 
it easily.” 

The King, however, was not yet greatly worried; for there still 
remained his older knights, true and tried, who had not made the 
attempt. Presently it was Gareth’s turn, he who had vanquished 
Day and Night and Death himself, and he stepped forward, and 
pulled and tugged — and failed. Then came Geraint who had humbled 


96 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


the haughty Sparrow-Hawk, and he pulled and tugged — and failed. 
Then Tristram whose prowess in times past had delivered both Corn- 
wall and Ireland, and he pulled and tugged — and failed. 

At this the King turned, still confident, to his dearest friend, 
the mighty Launcelot before whose lance king, duke, earl, count 
and baron had ever gone down; and he pulled and tugged — and 
failed. 

Last of all Arthur himself, remembering how, long ago, he had 
drawn the sword from the anvil, and unwilling that his court should be 
thus put to shame, made the trial also. So he pulled and tugged — 
and failed. 

“My knights,” said he when all was over, “I greatly fear that 
this has come to us as a warning that our purposes are no longer as 
single as in the days of old. Let each man present look to his own 
heart and life, lest the aim of our noble fellowship be defeated.” 

Then a deep hush fell upon them all, and they dared not look 
into each other’s eyes for shame of this thing that had befallen them. 
At last the maiden was about to turn hopelessly away when, from a 
far corner of the hall, there stepped a poorly clad knight knowm as 
Balin the Savage. He was not of Arthur’s company; but he had 
killed a relative of the King’s for which offence he had been throwm 
into prison until Arthur had learned that all had taken place in a 
fair fight. Then Arthur, the just, had released the young fellow, 
who, as it happened, had not yet left the court. 

This knight, therefore, after asking permission of his sovereign, 
bowed low to the maiden and said courteously: 

“Fair ladj% wall you let me try? Perchance this adventure is 
mine.” 

But the damsel, w^earied as she w^as, looked at Balin’s prison- 
worn garments and answered a trifle scornfully. 

“No, pray do not trouble me any more. What can you expect 
to do wdien all these good knights liave failed?” 

“Do not judge me by my outw^ard appearance, gentle maiden,” 
persisted the youth. Many a brave man has worn poor raiment 
before now. I pray you, let me try.” 

Then, having W’on her reluctant consent, he took the sword 
lightly by the hilt and drew it from its scabbard as easily as Arthur 
had drawm his from the anvil in those brave days of old. After which 


THE DOLOROUS STROKE 


97 


he held it up a trifle proudly, and thought that he had never seen so 
beautiful a weapon before. Presently he said: 

“Fair lady, may I keep this sword as a trophy.?” 

To which the maiden, ashamed of her former conduct toward 
him who had proved to be her deliverer, was about to consent most 
willingly when she chanced to look toward Merlin in whose eyes she 
read a mysterious and gloomy prophecy. She hesitated, therefore, 
and at last said slowly, speaking as if she were repeating the words 
of another rather than her own: 

“You may have it, Sir Knight, and welcome; but I advise you not 
to take it, for if you do, it will cause you to do great harm, and with 
it you will at last slay the man whom you love best in all the world.” 

Now this Balin had earned his title “the Savage” because of the 
good-natured recklessness of his disposition. Hearing this strange 
prophecy, therefore, he never thought of heeding it, but cried out 
instead. 

“Of that. Damsel, I will take my chances; for my brother Balan 
is the man whom I love best in all the world, and I certainly will 
never raise a sword against him.” 

Then the maiden yielded and passed from the hall; and Balin 
would have followed her had not the King called him back. 

“Do not go,” said Arthur, “and do not be angry with me because 
of my mistake in throwing you into prison. Stay with us now, we 
pray you, and be one of our own number.” 

At which invitation the lad’s heart leaped with pride and joy, 
yet he answered : 

“I thank you. Sire, but I beg you to let me first go forth to seek 
adventure; then, when I have proved myself worthy, I will gladly 
return, if I may.” 

So he departed; and when Arthur found himself alone with 
Merlin, he turned to the Wise One with a wondering look in his deep 
blue eyes. 

“Can it be. Merlin,” said he, that this Balin is that greatest 
knight in all the world who is some day to appear to take his seat in 
the Siege Perilous?” 

“Ah no,” replied the Sage, “the time for him is not ripe. Never- 
theless this Balin, wild and careless with his weapons as he sometimes 
is, is a passing good knight and will do you good service; yet much 


98 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


harm shall also come through his rashness, and his own life will be 
short and sad.” 

Meanwhile Balin, knowing little of these prophecies and caring 
less, rode on his way rejoicing in his freedom, until he presently met 
his twin brother Balan who was coming to Arthur’s court to plead 
for the prisoner’s release. After the first joy of their meeting, Balan 
informed his brother that King Rience was at that moment encamped 
nearby at Castle Terrabil. 

“Let us go against him then,” cried Balin impulsively. “He is 
Arthur’s enemy; and this is my opportunity for proving myself in 
the cause of the great White King!” 

Balin was willing enough to agree, so he wheeled his horse about 
and rode with his brother until they met an old man, dressed in black, 
with a long white beard. 

“Knights, where are you going.?” inquired this stranger. 

To which Balin, the hasty one, replied: 

“That we will tell you if you will tell us your name.” 

“I will not answer your question, but I will answer my own 
instead,” said the aged man. “After which you will be able to 
answer yours. You are bound for Castle Terrabil in search of Arthur’s 
enemy Rience. But you will gain nothing by your quest unless you 
ask my advice.” 

Then both the brothers cried out together: 

“Ah! you are Merlin, you are Merlin! Pray forgive us for our 
rudeness and tell us what we must do!” 

So the Wise One led them into the shadows of a deep wood, and 
told them to sleep there until he should awaken them. This they did, 
and towards midnight were suddenly aroused by the cry : 

“Rience is coming! He is riding through the wood with his 
soldiers before him! Wait until they have passed, and when the 
King himself appears you can fall upon and easily take him prisoner.” 

In fact they had not long to wait, for presently a company of 
giant knights rode by; then, at just the right moment. Merlin whis- 
pered : 

“There is Reince! Make your attack!” 

Thereupon Balin and Balan rushed forward making such a din 
and clatter with their arms that the soldiers, hearing this terrible 
noise at their rear, never stopped to investigate, but thinking that 


THE DOLOROUS STROKE 


99 


Arthur’s whole army was lying there in ambush, fled for their lives, 
abandoning their sovereign to his fate. 

Thus was Reince captured and brought to the court of his rightful 
Liege Lord where he did homage most humbly, and was never after- 
wards known to trouble Arthur again. 

Balin, however, felt that he could not rest on the laurels of this 
one achievement. Parting from his brother, therefore, who seems 



“IT WAS A VERY OLD WOODS”* 

*Forest Edge, Diaz. [Courtesy Braun et Cie.] 


to have had other work on hand, he rode along by himself until he 
chanced to meet with a knight and a maiden, both of whom appeared 
very sad and dejected. 

Instantly it occurred to our hero that here might be an oppor- 
tunity for another adventure. So he said to the knight courteously: 

“You seem to be in trouble. Is there any way in which I can 
help you.^” 

“Alas! neither you nor any other human being can render me 
any assistance,” replied the knight with a bitter sigh. “For I have 



100 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


made an enemy of Garlon, the man who rides invisible, and he may 
strike me down at any time without the slightest warning.” 

“But at least I may ride along with you, may I not?” inquired 
Balin. 

“Yes, if you wish,” was the hopeless reply. 

So the three rode on together, but they had not gone far when 
suddenly there appeared in the air, seemingly with no hand to guide 
it, a lance which struck the knight from behind so that he dropped 
to the ground crying: 

“I am killed! Take my horse. Sir Knight, for he is better than 
yours. Care for this maiden, as you honor your knighthood. Find 
this traitor who rides invisible, and avenge my death!” And with 
those words he died. 

Then it was Balin’s turn to be sad and silent, for brave man 
though he was, he was filled with horror at the thought that an enemy 
could steal upon him thus. But presently his anger at the cowardly 
conduct of this Garlon so flamed within him that he forgot his dread, 
and vowed, there before the maiden, never to relinquish the quest 
until he had found and slain the dastardly fellow. 

Now this was far more easily said than done, as our rash Balin 
began to realize as the days went by. He and the maiden, therefore, 
rode on for a long time hearing nothing of Garlon, although meeting 
with various other adventures, until one evening they came to the gate 
of a stately castle of whose lord they begged harborage for the night. 

While they were seated at this man’s hospitable board, above 
the music with which their host had sought to entertain them, Balin 
believed he heard a sound very like a deep groan. As no one else 
seemed to pay the slightest attention, however, our hero decided that 
his imagination was playing him some trick. But presently it came 
again, this time louder than before; and then a third time — a terrible 
moaning sound as from one in great pain. Then the music and the 
laughter ceased, while the lord of the castle bowed his head in his 
hands as if he too were in agony and said: 

“That is my son whom you hear. He was wounded by a knight 
named Garlon who rides invisible, and they tell me that he can never 
be healed until this cowardly fellow is slain. Alas! I am now tOo 
old to start upon such a quest; but I wish I might find some brave 
man who would undertake it for me.” 


THE DOLOROUS STROKE 


101 



Then Balin related liis story and added: 

“Can 3'oii tell me where and when I can ever meet this villain 
face to face?” 

“^es,” replied their host, “for he is the brother of King Pelles 
wlio is to give a great feast at his castle within a few days from now. 
This Garlon will surely be there, and he will be visible, for otherwise 


“THE GREAT BANQUET”* 

‘Hals, Banquet of Guard, Haarlem [Courtesy Braun et Cie.] 

he could partake of neither food nor drink. Any knight can attend 
this banquet without special invitation ])roviding he brings with him 
a lady. This fair damsel, therefore, will make you a welcome 
guest.” 

Then Balin rejoiced that at last he was so near tlie end of this 
particular adventure. So in the morning he and the maiden set out 
for the distant castle to which they came on the first day of the 
feast. 

The King’s attendants led our hero into an inner chamber and 
there disarmed him of all but his precious sword which he begged to 
be allowed to keep by him. Then he was shown into the great banquet 
hall, and seated with his maiden at his side. 

It was a wonderful gathering of brave knights and fair ladies 
from all over Britain, so that poor Balin looked about him bewildered. 



102 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


and began to wonder how he would ever recognize his enemy amid the 
throng. Presently he said to the man on his right: 

“Can you tell me which of these knights is Garlon, the King’s 
brother 

“Yes,” replied his neighbor, “there he is yonder, the one with the 
dark face.” 

Then Balin looked steadfastly at the man whom he had sought 
so long, and said to himself : 

“I am but a stranger here, while he is among relatives and friends. 
If I attack him, they will certainly fall upon me in a body, whereas 
if I let him go, I may never see him face to face again.” 

But while these thoughts were passing through his mind, Garlon 
perceived the stranger’s gaze fixed upon him; and rising suddenly 
stepped to his side, and struck him across the face, exclaiming: 

“Knave, why do j'ou stare at me? Eat your meat and do what 
you came for!” 

“So I will!” cried Balin. And with that he drew his sword and 
cut off Garlon’s wicked head before any one could stop him. Then 
he turned to his maiden saying: 

“Flee ! flee for your life; for I have no chance of saving mine. But 
tell our kind host that his son’s wound will heal now!” 

She obeyed, and none too soon, for in another moment the whole 
company of knights had arisen to throw themselves in a body upon 
the slayer of their kinsman; but at that instant the voice of the King 
was heard crying aloud: 

“Let no one touch him but me ! I alone must avenge my brother’s 
death ! ” 

With that Pelles grasped his spear and aimed a blow at Balin. 
Our hero, however, managed to catch the blow on his sword which 
was thus struck from his hand, and crashed to the ground. Then, 
finding himself thus defenceless, Balin dashed through the crowd of 
knights in front of him, and ran from room to room of the old castle 
hoping somewhere to come across a weapon, while all the time King 
Pelles followed in swift pursuit. 

Now Balin, hasty, impetuous, well-meaning fellow that he was, 
had not the slightest idea who this new enemy of his might be; but 
the truth was that he had come to Carbonek, the Castle of the Holy 
Grail, and that King Pelles was the keeper of the Sacred Chalice. 


THE DOLOROUS STROKE 


103 


The Grail, you must know, was the mystic Cup from which 
Jesus our Saviour drank with his disciples at the Last Supper; and 
also the Vessel in which Joseph of Arimathaea caught the drops of 
blood when our suffering Lord hung upon the cross. Since that time 
it had possessed miraculous powers, for the blood had remained in it 
ever after, endowing it with a mysterious life of its own, the nature 
of which no mortal man could understand. One of these powers was 
that it could give food and drink to whomsoever it chose, so that one 
thus fed by it knew neither hunger nor thirst for earthly things ever 
again. 

Thus it had happened that Joseph, who had given Jesus burial in 
his own rock-hewn sepulchre “wherein was never man yet laid,” was 
afterwards thrown into prison and fed there for many years so that 
his jailers were mystified. Afterwards, when he was at last released, 
he came to Britain bearing the sacred Chalice with him, and by it 
he had been kept alive here in Carbonek Castle awaiting the coming 
of that best knight in all the world before whose arrival it had been 
prophesied he should not see death. 

Balin had, of course, heard of Joseph and of the Holy Grail, 
but he had never hoped to see either, for the world, before the com- 
ing of Arthur, had grown so wicked that these Wonderful Things, 
once visible to all, had been withdrawn from mortal eyes; and even 
the knights who came and went freely about Carbonek Castle knew 
nothing about a certain room which could be reached only by a 
secret passage. 

It chanced, however, that Balin in his mad flight before the 
infuriated monarch touched a hidden spring which caused the door 
to this mysterious passage to swing back. Down this corridor he 
dashed until he found himself upon the threshold of a room hung 
with richest tapestries, and lighted by a soft red glow, proceeding 
he could not have told from where, though it was like the light of 
neither sun nor moon nor candles. The whole atmosphere of this 
apartment was so strange and awe-inspiring that probably anyone 
save this rash Balin the Savage would have paused reverently before 
entering. 

Upon a magnificent bed in a far corner lay an old, old man with 
a beard as white as the driven snow. He seemed as peaceful as if 
he were dead, yet there was the color of life upon his cheeks and his 


104 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


lips were tinted. Near his side stood a table of solid gold and silver 
wrought together in weird and beautiful patterns, and on this table 
lay a spear from whose point there fell from time to time a drop of 
blood. Where the blood touched it, the table shone with a myste- 
rious glory. 

Afterwards Balin remembered all these things, but at the mo- 
ment his one thought was of the weapon of which he stood in such 
great need. In an instant he had grasped it and turned fiercely 
upon King Pelles who was now close behind him. One moment more 
and the King had dropped to the ground senseless with a deep, gap- 
ing wound in his side. 

But as he fell Balin felt the floor rocking beneath him. Pres- 
ently he let slip the spear which seemed to burn his hand. He looked 
about him terror stricken and perceived that the walls were shaking 
and moving. Then a great din of crashing and splitting struck his 
ears, and at last the floor itself began to give way beneath him, while 
a burst of light streamed in from the roof as it opened and fell apart. 
At last the thick stone walls tottered and toppled, then with a mighty 
roar and crash the whole castle collapsed into a formless heap of ruins. 

For three daj^s after that Balin knew no more. Then, as he 
was returning painfully to consciousness, he heard a voice which he 
recognized as Merlin’s gently calling his name. 

“Balin,” it said, “wake up! It is time for you to leave this 
place. See, I have brought you a horse, and here is your sword 
which I rescued for you from the ruins.” 

But poor Balin was stiff and sore, and would much have pre- 
ferred to be let alone, until Merlin said to him sternly: 

“Balin, Balin the Savage, do jmu know what you have done?” 

“I have killed a cowardly murderer who rode invisible,” replied 
our hero. 

“Yes, but you have done more than that,” continued the Sage. 
“The old man who lay in that bed was the saintly Joseph of Ari- 
mathaea, and King Pelles is his descendant and the ])resent keeper 
of the Grail; while that spear with which you wounded the King’s 
side was the very one the Roman soldier used when he pierced the 
heart of our Saviour on the cross.” 

“And Joseph and King Pelles,” whispered Balin in an awed 
voice, “are they — dead?” 


THE DOLOROUS STROKE 


105 


“No,” replied Merlin, “for it was not in your power to kill 
them; but the king can never be healed of that terrible wound which 
you gave him until the coming of the best knight in all the world. 
It was because you struck with that sacred spear that the castle 
fell; and by that same Dolorous Stroke the whole land for miles 
about is laid waste, and must remain desolate until the coming of 
that knight of whom I spoke.” 

Then Merlin vanished, and Balin, sick at heart, rode on his 
dreary way alone. For three days he followed a lane through fields 
where nothing grew and through gardens whose flowers hung old and 
faded on their stalks, until at last he came to a cross whereon was 
written in letters of gold, “Let no knight ride alone to this castle.” 
Balin, however, was too weary of his own life to heed any warning, 
and continued on his way until he came to the castle in question 
where he was greeted heartily by a great company of knights and ladies. 

The chief lady of the castle, however, said to him: 

“Stranger, there is a certain knight here who keeps an island, 
and no man may pass thereby unless he joust with him.” 

“That is a bad custom,” replied Balin, “nevertheless I am 
willing.” 

So they provided him with a shield; then he and his horse were 
put upon a barge and sailed away to the farther side of a beautiful 
lake. There Balin disembarked and rode forward until he beheld 
coming toward him a mighty knight clothed all in fiery red. In a 
moment both had set their spears in rest and crashed together so 
that each was thrown from his horse. Then they arose and began 
to fight with their swords, and it seemed to Balin that never before 
had he encountered such prowess. At last he became angered at 
the thought that anyone should thus stand against him, and lashed 
with such fury that presently the valiant red knight sank to the 
ground, crying: 

“I yield! You have vanquished me, and I cannot live with the 
wounds which I have received; but I do not care for that, for I have 
kept the custom of the castle as I promised!” 

To which Balin replied: 

“Sir Knight, you have killed me too. Tell me who you are, 
for never before have I met with such a valiant man of arms!” 

Then the stranger answered huskily: 


106 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“My name is Balan, brother to Balin, one of the best knights 
in all the world. Him I know you could never have overthrown.” 

At this Balin, wounded though he was, crept to his brother’s 
side, and raising his vizor, cried bitterly: 

“Alas! the fateful prophecy was true! I have done great mis- 
chief, and with this sword I have slain the man whom I love best 
in all the world!” 

Then, not long after, having comforted each other in their last 
moments, the two ill-fated brothers breathed their last. 

The following morning Merlin came to perform the burial rites. 
After which he took Balin’s accursed sword and put upon it a new 
hilt rich in gold and jewels, and bearing an inscription written in 
weird characters. Then he said to himself: 

“It shall yet serve in a holy cause.” 

And with that he drove the weapon into a great block of red 
marble which he threw into the lake upon whose placid bosom it 
floated like a piece of wood for many a year until at last it drifted 
down to Camelot which mystic city it reached on the self-same day 
when the best knight in all the world arrived there to take his place 
in the Siege Perilous. 


GLOSSARY 8 


1. Barge, a boat. 

2. Chalice, a consecrated cup. 

3. Champion, to act as the defender of an- 

other’s cause. 

4. Dastardly, cowardly. 

5. Dolorous, causing sorrow or pain. 

6. Grail, a consecrated cup. 

7. Homage, the ceremony of professing feality 

and promising service. 

8. Liege Lord, an overlord, one who held 

authority over other lords. 


9. Lance, a long shaft with a spear-head. 

10. Overlord, same as liege lord. 

11. Prowess, bravery. 

12. Quest, a search. 

13. Siege, a seat. 

14. Standard, a flag or banner. 

15. Trophy, anything taken from an enemy and 

treasured as a proof of victory. 

16. Vizor, the front piece of a helmet. 


IX 


Ol)e (Tomlng of (Bala^a6 


“ My good blade carves the casques of men. 

My tough lance thrusteth sure, 

My strength is as the strength of ten. 

Because my heart is pure.” 

Tennyson’s “Sir Galahad.” 


the Pentecostal time was drawing near, and Arthur 
/"X had decided to keep the Feast on this occasion at Camelot 
^ instead of at Caerleon, according to his usual custom. 

For many days beforehand, from north and south and east and 
west such of the knights as had been able to achieve their quests 
had come riding into the city, anxious to take part in that most 
famous gathering of all the year which commemorated the day of 
their Sovereign’s birth as well as his coronation day; so that on the 
eve of the great Feast a discovery was made of something which 
had never been known to occur before since the founding of the Round 
Table — every one of the one hundred and forty-nine knights of the 
Order was in his place, and the Siege Perilous alone still stood empty. 

While that goodly company, the flower of Britain’s manhood, sat 
thus circled about their King and Queen rejoicing in the unusual 
event, a maiden was ushered into the great hall and led courteously 
by one of the knights to the foot of the throne. There, after having 
made obeisance to her Sovereigns, she asked the question that had 
come from the lips of so many damsels in distress; 

“Your Majesty, can you tell me if the great Sir Launcelot is 
here.?” 


“That is Sir Launcelot,” replied the King with an inclination of 
his head toward him who sat in the third seat from the mystic Siege 
Perilous. 

“Sir Launcelot,” said the maiden, stepping up to the court 
favorite who had risen to meet her. “I am sent to you by King 

107 


108 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Pelles — he who years ago received the Dolorous Stroke. He requests 
that, without asking any questions, you ride wdth me to an abbey 
in a forest not very far from here.” 

“I will go most willingly, maiden,” replied Launcelot, “if the 
King permits.” 

Arthur was about to give his consent when the Queen inter- 
rupted him sa^dng: 

“My Lord, to-morrow is our great Feast day, and for once, 
perhaps for the last time, who knows, we are all together. May 
not Sir Launcelot delay this quest for twenty-four hours?” 

At this it was the maiden’s turn to interrupt. 

“Your Majesty,” said she addressing Guinevere, “let him come 
with me now, and I promise you that he shall be back before noon 
to-morrow.” 

So Launcelot armed himself for the mysterious quest, and fol- 
lowed the damsel along devious paths until they reached the heart 
of a deep forest where there stood an old abbey. As the gates swung 
open at their approach, there issued from one of the side doors twelve 
holy nuns clad in spotless white raiment, one of whom was leading 
a young man, scarcely more than a boy in years, yet marvelously 
tall and stalwart-looking. 

“Sir,” said the gentle sister to Launcelot, “this young squire is 
the grandson of King Pelles, who, however, has not seen him since 
his childhood, for he was early left to our care. He is strong and 
brave and noble, and has been taught all that a prince should know. 
It is time, therefore, that he be made a knight, so at his own request 
we have sent for the greatest member of Arthur’s Round Table to 
confer that honor upon him.” 

Then Launcelot turned his gaze upon the youth and thought 
that he had never seen so wonderful a face, for besides its manly 
beauty it showed courage and hope and the rich flush and glow of a 
great inspiration which caused the mighty knight’s heart to contract 
with sudden pain as the memory of his own lost youth rose up before 
him. Then a strange feeling took possession of him, and he seemed 
to hear a voice whispering in his ear, “He has come! He has come!” 
But all he could trust himself to say aloud was: 

“Then let him watch his arms in your chapel to-night, and in 
the morning he shall receive the order of knighthood.” 


THE COMING OF GALAHAD 109 



“THE GOOD 
SISTERS 
RANGED 
THEMSELVES 
ABOUT THE 
ALTAR”* 


*The Singing Angels, 
Van Dyck 

Royal Museum, 
Berlin 


no 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


So it was done, and while the others slept the young man kept 
his holy vigil praying that he might ever remain true to his vows. 
With the first flush of dawn came the good sisters, filing in one by 
one, bearing lighted tapers, and ranged themselves about the altar. 
And last of all came Launcelot, who fastened the lad’s golden spurs, 
after which he gave him three strokes with the flat of his sword, 
saying reverently: 

“May God make you as brave and true as you are good to look 
upon.” 

Then, when the ceremony was at an end Launcelot turned to 
the new knight and inquired: 

“Will you now ride with me to Camelot to pay homage to the 
King?” 

But the youth answered: 

“Not yet. Sir Knight, for the time has not come for me to go 
to court. Nevertheless I shall join you there before very long.” 

So Launcelot, pondering these things in his heart, returned 
alone; and arrived, as the maiden had promised, in ample time for 
the Feast which was set for high noon. 

Then began that day of days, the most marvelous of all the great 
White King’s reign. 

As Launcelot rode in he found the knights assembled in the 
throne room, according to their time-honored custom aw\aiting the 
report of that unusual occurrence which would permit the Feast to 
begin. Scarcely had he taken his place among them when a squire 
appeared before the King saying: 

“Sire, down by the river I have seen a wonderful sight indeed — 
a block of red marble, in which is sticking a sword with a hilt of 
curious workmanship, floating on the water like a piece of common 
wood!” 

“That is truly a marvel!” exclaimed Arthur, “and one well 
worth our going to see.” 

Accordingly the King and Queen with all the knights and ladies 
of the court filed down to the river’s brink, where they beheld, just 
as the squire had said, an immense block of red marble, with a sword 
sticking in it, floating on the waves. They stood there watching it 
for a while until presently it was cast ashore at Arthur’s feet. Then 
the King espied an inscription written in weird letters which twined 


THE COMING OF GALAHAD 


111 


in and out among the jewels of the hilt, and proceeded to read it 
aloud : 

‘“Never shall man take me hence, but only he by whom 

I OUGHT TO HANG, AND HE SHALL BE THE BEST KNIGHT OF 
THE WORLD.’” 

For a moment there was silence, then Arthur turned to Launce- 
lot, saying; 

“This sword ought to be yours, my friend; for where in all the 
world is there a better knight than you.^^” 

But Launcelot, remembering his adventure of the morning, and 
looking down into the depths of his own tempest-tossed soul, shook ^ 
his head and answered humbly: 

“Sire, I know full well that this weapon is not for such as I, 
therefore I will not set my hand to it. Moreover I advise no other 
knight here present to attempt to draw it lest he receive a deadly 
wound.” 

So the whole company turned back toward the hall, questioning 
among themselves what these strange things might mean, and 
there awaited them the second wonder; for as each man prepared 
to take his rightful place about the mystic Table he noticed a new 
lustre proceeding from that empty seat which was known as the 
Siege Perilous. Presently each became aware of the fact that the 
old inscription was gone from the back of the Siege and that a new 
one had taken its place bearing these words: 

“Four hundred winters and fifty-four accomplished after 

THE PASSION OF OUR LORD JeSUS ChRIST OUGHT THIS SIEGE TO 
BE FULFILLED.” 

Then Launcelot, thinking of the lad whom he had knighted that 
morning in the forest, turned pale, and exclaimed in an awed voice: 

“Sire, according to that count the Siege should be filled this 
very day, for this is the Feast of Pentecost after the four hundred 
and fifty-fourth year. And if it please you I should like to cover 
these letters that none may behold them till the coming of him who 
shall achieve the adventure.” 

Then, having received the King’s permission, he took a cloth 


112 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


of purest white silk and reverently laid it upon the chair, thus veil- 
ing it from the curious eyes. 

After that, with a strange, tense feeling of something impend- 
ing, the knights were about to turn their attention to the banquet 
so long delayed by excess of marvels, when the third wonder of the 
day presented itself: 

Suddenly all the doors and windows of the palace shut of their 
own accord, yet the hall was not greatly darkened. Then there 
appeared in their midst the figure of what seemed to be an old man 
although he was cloaked and hooded in raiment of dazzling white- 
ness, so that no one could see his face; and with him was a young 
knight in flame-colored armor by whose side hung an empty scab- 
bard, for he bore neither sword nor shield. 

In an instant Launcelot recognized the youth whom he had 
knighted that morning; and he was, therefore, not surprised to see 
their mysterious guest lead him to the foot of the throne and raise 
his hand in blessing, saying: 

“Peace be with you, knights of the Round Table!” Then ad- 
dressing the King: 

“Sire, I bring you here a young knight that is of royal lineage 
and of the family of Joseph of Arimathaea. By him shall the mar- 
vels of this court be fully accomplished, for the world has been await- 
ing his coming these many years!” 

Then the aged man, who was none other than Joseph of Ari- 
mathaea himself, caused the youth to lay aside his armor, and threw 
upon his shoulders a scarlet mantle trimmed with richest ermine; 
after which, saying, “Follow me,” he led him to the Siege Perilous. 
And as the young man stood there, with a strange, rapt look upon 
his face as if he had a vision of things to which the rest were blinded, 
Launcelot’s covering of white silk was raised by an invisible hand 
so that all present might read the inscription which was now changed 
for the second time that day: 

“This is the seat of Gal.\had, the best knight in all the 

WORLD.” 

An awed hush fell upon the company, while the youth stood 
before his rightful place with lowered eyes. Suddenly all became 
aware of the fact that the saintly Joseph had vanished as myste- 


THE COMING OF GALAHAD 


113 


riously as he had appeared. Then Arthur recovered himself suffi- 
ciently to speak: 

“Sir Galahad,” said he, “you are indeed welcome to a place 
that has stood vacant awaiting your coming for so many, many 
years. Yet before you take your seat we should like to see you 
achieve another adventure. Will you come with me to the river’s 
brink?” 

So the King led the way with the whole court following, and 
when they stood at the water’s edge, he said gravely: 

“Try, Sir Galahad, if you can draw that sword from the marble, 
for then we shall know beyond all question that you are that best 
knight in all the world.” 

“See, your Majesty,” replied the youth still with becoming 
modesty, “I have no sword with me, only this empty scabbard; 
for I knew that I should find my weapon here, as I shall later find 
my shield.” 

Then he laid his hand on the bejewelled hilt and lightly drew 
the whole from its stony sheath, after which he placed it in his own 
scabbard, saying: 

“That sword has done great mischief, for it was the cause of 
the Dolorous Stroke, and furthermore it was the fateful weapon with 
which a good man slew his brother. I pray, therefore, that I may 
be able to do enough good with it to wipe out the curse.” 

Yes, truly, there was no doubt qf it now; the best knight of all 
the world was indeed among them at last! Yet the King’s face was 
sad as he led the way back, for he had a strange premonition that 
the days of his Round Table were drawing to a close, and there is 
always sadness in finality even though it be the finality of fulfill- 
ment. 

When they regained the hall, Galahad knelt to take upon him- 
self that great vow of the Order “as is a shame a man should not 
be bound by, yet the which no man yet had been fully able to keep”: 

“To reverence the King as if he were 
Their conscience, and their conscience as their King, 

To break the heathen and uphold the Christ, ’ 

To ride abroad redressing human wrongs. 

To speak no slander, no, nor listen to it. 


114 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


To honor his own word as if his God’s, 

To lead sweet lives in purest chastity. 

To love one maiden only, cleave to her. 

And worship her by years of noble deeds. 

Until they won her.” 

And as the words fell from his lips there was a light upon his 
face which brought back to Arthur’s mind the day when Launcelot, 
in the first flush of his young manhood, had sworn that same oath 
while all had believed that he would prove to be that one perfect 
knight without fear and without reproach. 

Presently Galahad arose from his knees; then, while all present 
held their breath, he turned and quietly and reverently took his 
seat in the wondrous Siege Perilous. Thus at last, for the first time 
since Merlin had made it for Arthur’s royal father, Uther Pendragon, 
every one of the hundred and fifty seats of the mystic Round Table 
was occupied! 

And then — 

Suddenly the great hall grew dark, and there came a sound of 
cracking and riving and rending of the roof, with a mighty blast of 
thunder overhead. Then into the blackness, through an upper win- 
dow there stole one broad gleam of dazzling sunlight, seven times 
more clear than the ordinary light of day. Presently, down the 
beam there slowdy glided a soft red glow moving toward the Siege 
which Galahad filled. None present, save one only, could see dis- 
tinctly what it was, for although its general shape was that of a 
Goblet, yet it was covered with soft white silk, and seemed further- 
more to be enshrouded in a sort of luminous cloud through which 
its resplendence shone, filling the room with its glory. It moved on 
as if some unseen hand were guiding it until at last it rested in a 
blaze of splendor above the Siege Perilous, and in that light each 
man beheld his brother not as he really was, but as he had prayed 
and longed and striven all his life to become. Not more than a 
moment did it remain, then it passed, leaving but the red glow be- 
hind, which in its turn presently faded into the light of common 
day. 

One, two, three minutes went by, and still the awed silence 
remained unbroken, for all realized that the Holy Thing which had 


THE COMING OF GALAHAD 


115 


passed was none other than the mystic Grail. Presently Gawain, 
he who had once been faithless in the King’s quest, arose and hold- 
ing his sword aloft with the cross-shaped hilt upward instead of the 
point, cried aloud: 

“Sire, I know not how it may have been with the others, but 
as for me, I did not see the Sacred Cup plainly. Therefore I make 
this vow: To leave this goodly fellowship and to seek the Grail for 
a year and a day. At the end of that time, if I have not found it, 
I will return believing that the achievement of this Quest is not 
for me.” 

Then in a moment every sword in the room was raised, not in 
the old way, but as Gawain had held his — cross-shaped hilt upward; 
while instead of the usual simultaneous cry, each man began to make 
the vow separately to seek the Sacred Chalice until he should see it 
in open vision. After a while all had sworn save only the new knight 
in the flame-cclored robe. 

So Arthur turned to him saying wonderingly: 

“Sir Knight, did you see plainly the Holy Grail.'^” 

To which the youth replied: 

“Sire, I saw it, and a heavenly host as well which filled the 
hall. Furthermore I heard a voice crying: ‘Galahad, Galahad, fol- 
low me!’ Therefore I now swear to pursue this Quest, not only for 
a year and a day, but for my whole life if need be, until I achieve 
once again the perfect vision.” 

Then the King bowed his head, exclaiming: 

“Ah! Galahad, Galahad! This Quest is indeed for such as you 
whose strength is as the strength of ten because your heart is pure!” 
Then turning to his other knights, he added sadly: 

“But you. Oh my friends, have you thought that you may thus 
be forsaking your plain duty to follow, not a great light such as 
Galahad’s, but a wandering fire which will lead you at last into the 
quagmire.^ I, your King, may not go upon this Quest, for God has 
given me my kingdom to rule, therefore my place is here. Yet how 
crippled shall my work be henceforth; for when the cries of this 
great land pass through this hall, your places will be vacant, and 
there will be none to send out to right the wrongs of the weak and 
the oppressed. 

“Nevertheless, now that they are made, j^our vows are sacred. 


116 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


and perchance you may become better men by seeking even that 
which you are destined never to find. Go therefore, but before you 
depart let us have one more tournament on the old tilting-ground 
that once again I may see the yet unbroken strength of all my 
knights.” 

So when the next morning came the famous old field of combat 
was thronged with spectators more eager then ever before to hear 
the sounding of the trumpets, for a rumor had already spread abroad 
concerning the w^onders of the preceding day. 

The King and the Queen sat together beneath the royal canopy, 
and looked down upon their knights with faces where pride and pain 
strove for mastery; for never before had Camelot seen so many 
brave deeds done, so many lances broken in a tourney. 

No man was there in the field that day who failed to do him- 
self credit, yet wherever Arthur and Guinevere looked they seemed 
to see only the glow of Galahad’s flame-colored mail and the flash 
of his burnished arms. Never once did his horse falter, never once 
did his spear fail; and though he bore no shield, every lance that 
touched his armor was instantly shattered. They noticed, however, 
that while every knight against whom he charged went down, he 
never came near Launcelot or Bors or Percival, so that they too did 
nobly in the tournament. 

When all was over the King called the young hero to his side, 
and looking long into his eyes said in a voice which trembled slightly : 

“Galahad, I have seen this day the best that a knight can do!” 

But the end came at last. Early the following morning with 
prancing chargers, flying banners, waving plumes and glittering arms 
that ‘glorious company, the flower of men’ rode to Camelot’s great 
cathedral where they knelt to receive the blessing of the Archbishop 
on the Quest. After which the King ordered the roll to be called, 
and it was found that not one was missing — a hundred and fifty men 
in all — every knight of the Round Table! 

So they remounted their horses and rode on through the dim, 
rich city between long lines of people who were weeping silently, for 
they seemed to realize, as did Arthur and Guinevere, that manj^ of 
them were riding to their doom. Presently they passed through the 
gate where the White King’s wars were rendered mystically, and out 
to the broad highway. 


THE COMING OF GALAHAD 


117 


For a while the King and Queen, gazing upon the disappearing 
host from the battlements of the castle, could distinguish here a 
shield and there a banner, and would whisper to each other: 

“See! that is Launcelot’s, and that is Bors’, and that is Per- 
cival’s!” 

While every now and then a flash of scarlet caused them to ex- 
claim: 

“Ah! that was Galahad!” 

But before long they could see only a bright spot in the road 
where the morning sunlight glanced upon the burnished arms, and 



THE FAMOUS OLD FIELD OF COMBAT WAS THRONGED WITH SPECTATORS” 

Detail from Pilgrims to Canterbury, Stothard, London National Gallery [Courtesy Braun et Cie] 


presently even that grew smaller and smaller, until at last a mist 
that had arisen before their own eyes blotted it forever from their 
sight. 

Such was the passing of the Round Table to the lingering gaze 
of its founder — like the setting of a star. 


GLOSSARY 9 


1. Abbey, a convent, the dwelling place of an 

abbess. 

2. Canopy, a covering suspended over a 

throne. 

.S. Chalice, a consecrated cup. 

4. Charger, a war-horse. 

5. Devious, winding. 

6. Grail, a consecrated cup. 


7. Lineage, family. 

8. Obeisance, a bow. 

9. Quagmire, soft, marshy ground that yields 

under the foot; a bog. 

10. Scabbard, the sheath of a sword. 

11. Siege, a seat. 

12. Taper, a candle. 

13. Vigil, a night watch. 


X 


Quest of l^e U'fol^ (Brail 

“ ‘O, yet methought I saw the Holy Grail, 

All pall’d in crimson samite, 

but what I saw was veil’d 
And cover’d; and this quest was not for me.’” 

Tennyson’s “Holy Grail.” 


^^^ELL-NIGH impossible would it be to follow the exploits of 
Cv/ all the hundred and fifty brave men who set out from Came- 
lot that sad yet glorious morning in Quest of the Holy 
Grail. Therefore we must content ourselves with relating some of 
the marvelous adventures of the three whose seats had been nearest 
to the Siege Perilous — Launcelot, Bors, and Percival the Pure. 


THE ADVENTURES OF SIR K\UNCELOT 

All that first day the knights rode together until, towards eve- 
ning, they came to a place where four roads met, in the centre of 
which stood a double cross whose arms thus pointed north and south 
and east and west. There the company broke up, each riding in 
the direction toward which he believed himself called; so it happened 
that, when darkness overtook him, Launcelot, whose seat had been 
third from the mystic Siege, found himself alone in a strange land. 

Now, although he believed that, in times past, he had travelled 
all over the island of Britain, he had never come across so wild and 
desolate a region before. There were no highways, and scarcely any 
paths that he might follow. Only here and there did he meet a 
human being; but the wild beasts of the forest often crossed his 

118 


THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL 


119 


track, so that his deeds of prowess took the form of defending him- 
self against their attacks rather than that of tilting with mailed 
knights. 

So he rode for many days, sleeping at night beneath such shelter 
as he could find in the mouldy ruins of some old castle through the 
chinks in whose walls the fierce eyes of famished beasts of prey fre- 
quently glared at him. 

One night, however, he chanced to come across a stone cross 
which stood by an ancient chapel. Having tied his horse to a tree, 
he looked in through the door and saw that all was in a ruined and 
wasted condition save for an altar richly decked in white samite 
upon which there stood a silver candlestick bearing six lights. Being 
weary with his journey, however, he made no attempt to enter, but 
unlaced his helmet, ungirded his sword, and lay down to sleep upon 
his shield at the foot of the cross. 

And as he slept he dreamed that he saw drive up two white 
palfreys bearing a litter upon which lay a wounded knight. Then 
the chapel door seemed to open, and the candlestick with its six 
lighted tapers was borne by invisible hands to the other side of the 
cross. Presently there appeared in the same mysterious manner a 
table of gold and silver upon which was set the Holy Grail itself! 
Yet even in his dream Launcelot could not see it plainly, for it was 
still covered with white silk and enshrouded in that same luminous 
cloud which had veiled it from his eyes at Camelot. The wounded 
Knight seemed to be aware of its presence too, for he suddenly sat 
up raising his arms toward the Sacred Chalice and cried aloud: 

“Have mercy. Lord, and grant that I be made whole!” 

Then he crept slowly and painfully on hands and knees until he 
was able to touch the Grail, whereupon he immediately leaped up 
joyfully exclaiming: 

“Lord, I thank thee, for now at last I am whole indeed, and 
cleansed of all my sin!” 

Hearing the man’s last words, Launcelot, who was sick in soul 
if not in body, tried with all his might to rise that he likewise might 
lay his hand upon the Holy Thing; but he found that, struggle as 
he would, he could move neither hand nor foot. Then suddenly 
knight and candlestick and table and Grail vanished from his sight 
and he awoke to hear a voice still ringing in his ears which said: 


120 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“Launcelot! Launcelot! Withdraw j^ourself from this sacred 
place, for you are unworthy ! ” 

So he departed sad at heart, remembering the King’s warning, 
and saying bitterly to himself: 

“Alas! this Quest is not for such as I!” 

After a while he came to a wild forest on the side of a lofty 
mountain where he found a hermitage of whose occupant he begged 
shelter for the night. As the two talked together over their frugal 
fare, Launcelot felt moved to unburden his heart to the holy man, 
who said to him gravely when he had heard all: 

“Sir Launcelot of the Lake, you have won honor and glory so 
that you have come to be known far and wide as the mightiest knight 
of Arthur’s Round Table. But you are proud, and often your great 
feats have been performed not for God and his righteousness only, 
but more for the plaudits of men, and the praise of the King and 
the admiration of the beautiful Guinevere; therefore the open vision 
of the Grail is not for you. To three men only will it be given to 
see it plainly; but of all the others who ride upon this Quest you 
will come nearest to it, for you have been tempted as few are tempted, 
and you have striven with your own heart as few have been called 
upon to strive. Farewell, go in peace and sin no more!” 

So Launcelot set out again a trifle comforted, and when the eve- 
ning shadows were descending upon him once more he found him- 
self in a deep wood through the gloom of which he presently 
dimly perceived the form of a knight coming toward him on 
horseback. 

“Sir Knight,” he cried out joyfully when the man was within 
speaking distance, “I pray you to try a joust with me, for I have 
fought with none but wild beasts for so long that I have almost 
forgotten knightly ways.” 

The stranger made no reply, but set his lance in rest. Then 
both spurred their horses and crashed together so that Launcelot’s 
spear struck full upon the shield of his opponent and was instantly 
broken to splinters. Another moment and our hero was hurled 
from the back of his charger and lay upon the ground. Thus was 
the mighty Launcelot, the glory of King Arthur’s court, thrown by 
the first knight whom he chanced to meet in the Quest! 

Instantly, however, he was on his feet again; yet he did not 


THE QUEST OE THE HOLY GRAIL 


121 


draw his sword, as he would most assuredly have done in other days, 
but bowed his head before his conqueror saying humbly: 

“I know who you are. Sir Knight; for I have jousted with the 
best knights of Britain and would recognize the stroke of each. 
Neither Gareth, nor Geraint, nor Tristram could have thrown me. 
Therefore I know that you are Galahad!” 

Then Galahad put up his sword 
crying joyfully: 

“Ah ! Launcelot, Launcelot, the 
man to whom I owe my knighthood ! 

How glad I am of this meeting!” 

Long these two talked together 
— of the court which now seemed 
like some far off dream of the past, 
and of the achieving of the Quest 
which was no less a distant dream 
of the future. Then at last Launce- 
ot said: 

“Galahad, may I fare with 
you henceforth, for I am certain 
that you will some day see the 
Holy Grail.?” 

But Galahad answered sadly: 

“Alas! my Launcelot, that 
cannot be, for I am permitted to 
take no one with me as yet.” 

And with that he grasped the 
older knight’s hand in farewell, and 
mounting his horse was soon lost to sight amid the shadows of the 
wood. Yet for many moments after his departure it seemed to 
Launcelot that there lingered a gleaming trail of light where his 
flame-colored armor had passed by. 

Presently, feeling no need of rest, Launcelot too mounted his 
charger to follow the road along which Galahad had preceded him; 
and so, in the course of time, as the morning sun shot up from un- 
derground, he found that he had reached the sea. 

There, floating gently upon the waves he saw a little ship which 
lay so close to the rocks that he could easily step on board, as an 



“A KNIGHT COMING TOWARD HIM ON 
HORSEBACK” 

Equestrian Portrait Charles I, Van Dyck, Prado, Madrid 
[Cmirlesy Braun et Cie] 


122 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


inner voice seemed to be counselling him to do. No sooner had he 
placed his foot upon the deck, however, than the little craft, by the 
aid of neither sail nor oar, left its moorings and was soon adrift upon 
the high seas. 

Then a feeling of strange peace came over his troubled spirit, 
and the weariness of all his sleepless nights enveloped him; so that 
presently his eyes closed and he did not awaken until the sudden 
cessation of the rocking motion that had lulled him caused him to 
realize that his vessel had reached its port. 

A full moon riding high in the cloudless heavens revealed to him 
by its weird light the outlines of a castle with a high tower and many 
turrets and battlements standing near the shore. Still impelled by 
the commands of that inner voice he disembarked and walked up to 
the gate which, as he now perceived, was guarded by two immense 
lions. Instinctively he drew his sword; but no sooner had he done 
so than it was wrenched from his hand by a small black dwarf who 
at that moment stepped out from among the shadows. 

“Proud Knight,” said he,“ why do you trust to the strength 
of your arm rather than to the goodness of your Maker.?” 

Then he returned the weapon to Launcelot who now pointed it 
towards the lions cross-shaped hilt forward, whereupon the beasts 
made no further effort to impede his progress. 

So he passed on into the fortress through many doors which 
opened at his approach until at last he came to one that remained 
fast closed. He tried the handle, but it refused to turn; and as he 
hesitated, uncertain what to do next, he heard the sound of soft 
music on the other side. So like the singing of some heavenly choir 
were those strains that Launcelot felt impelled to kneel humbly 
before that fast-closed portal. As he did so the sound grew louder, 
and presently the door swung slowly back upon its hinges. 

Reverently he raised his eyes and beheld in the centre of a great 
room a table of gold and silver inlaid in weird patterns upon which, 
still with its covering of white silk, but with no cloud about it now, 
stood the long-sought Holy Grail! Ten times brighter did its mystic 
glow appear to the weary seeker than when he had first seen it in 
the old hall at Camelot, or even than it had seemed to him in his 
dream by the cross. 

As he continued to gaze in mute wonder, a figure cloaked and 


THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL 


123 


hooded in apparel of stainless white stepped forward, and lifting the 
Sacred Chalice with both hands, raised it far above his head in ado- 
ration. Whereupon Launcelot, with the one idea of coming nearer to 
the Holy Thing, arose from his knees intending to enter the room. 

Suddenly, however, it seemed to him that a blast like a fiery 
breath struck him in the face, and the burning air was all about 
him and through him, so that he fell to the ground, having lost the 
power of motion. Then he felt no more pain, yet he was aware of 
the fact that he was being carried away to another room where he 
was laid tenderly upon a soft white bed; and there he remained 
unconscious for tw^enty-four days — one day for each year that he 
had failed in perfect fidelity to the vows of his knighthood. 

At the end of that time he aw^oke one morning able to answer 
the questions of the kind people of the Castle. 

“I am Launcelot of the Lake,” said he, “and I seek the Holy 
Grail.” 

“This is Carbonek, the Castle of the Grail,” they replied, “wLich 
was rebuilt by unseen hands after its terrible fall wdien Balin the 
Savage gave its master the Dolorous Stroke. You have done nobly. 
Sir Launcelot, but now you must return to King Arthur’s court, 
for the open vision is not for you, and you wdll never see more of 
the Sacred Vessel than you have seen already.” 

Then Launcelot took ship again, and sailed aw^ay toward dis- 
tant Camelot where he arrived in time — a humbler and a wiser man. 

THE ADVENTURES OF SIR BORS 

When the knights parted at the cross-roads, Bors whose seat had 
been second from the mystic Siege rode on alone for some days with- 
out meeting with any adventure which a brave man, such as he, 
would have considered worth relating. One evening, how^ever, he, 
too, reached a hermitage where he was made welcome at the humble 
board, the fare of which consisted of dry bread and sparkling water 
from a mountain spring. 

As he and his kind host talked together, Bors w^as moved as 
Launcelot had been to tell the hermit the story of the Quest. When 
he had finished the good man said gravely: 

“Sir Knight, do you know that all the powers of evil are leagued 


124 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


together against the men who seek the Grail? And do you realize 
that only they who triumph over all temptations shall achieve the 
open vision?” 

“Yes,” said Bors, “all this I know very well.” 

“Then will you make me a promise?” inquired the hermit. 

“If it be one that I can keep,” said Bors. 

“Promise me,” continued the good man, “that you will eat 
nothing but dry bread and drink nothing but pure water until you 
achieve the Quest.” 

Then Bors hesitated. ' 

“But, Friend,” said he, “it may well be that I am destined 
never to see the Grail at all. Then would you have me live the rest 
of my life upon such simple fare?” 

“I know,” replied the hermit mysteriously, “that you will see 
it if you never allow yourself to be turned from the Quest through 
any fear, or for any pleasure or gain.” 

Then the light of hope kindled in the young man’s eyes, and he 
exclaimed joyfully: 

“Kind Friend, I promise!” 

So in the morning he bid farewell to his host and rode on his 
way through the forest until he chanced to meet with two great, 
rough-looking knights who were leading a third as their prisoner. 
As they drew nearer Bors perceived that the unfortunate man, whom 
they had bound upon his horse and were beating with thorns, was 
none other than his own brother Lionel. 

Instantly he had drawn his sword ready to fly to the rescue, 
and was about to fall upon the men when suddenly, from out the 
thicket on the farther side of the road dashed a woman, neither 
young nor beautiful, who, as he soon discovered, was fleeing for her 
life from a band of robbers. 

For an instant Bors hesitated, in doubt whether his duty lay in 
the direction of rescuing his brother whom he dearly loved or of sav- 
ing this woman who was nothing to him. Then his chivalrous train- 
ing in Arthur’s halls came to his aid, and he remembered that Lionel 
too was a knight bound, like himself, to suffer whatsoever came to 
him in the righting of wrongs, and in the championing of the cause 
of the weak and the oppressed. He turned, therefore, fiercely upon 
the robbers who presently fled in dismay, so that he was able tp 


THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL 


125 


deliver the woman in safety to her friends when they appeared upon 
the scene. 

Having thus obeyed the voice of his conscience, Bors now spurred 
his horse and hastened down the road where he had seen his brother 
disappear. He had not gone far, however, when he met a man in 
the robe of a priest riding a great black charger. 

“Where are you going so fast. Sir Knight.?” this man called out. 

“Do not detain me, I pray 
you,” replied Bors, “for I am 
speeding to overtake two rogues 
who are carrying my brother away 
a prisoner!” 

“Then it will be useless for 
you to go any farther,” said the 
priest, “for the wicked men have 
already killed your brother and 
disposed of his body in the mere. 

Come with me now to a castle 
near by where you can spend the 
night.” 

So Bors turned sadly and 
rode with the stranger, relating 
his story as he went. 

“Did I do right,” he inquired 
at last, “to forsake my brother 
and rescue the woman.?” 

“No,” answered the priest, 

“you did wrong, and you are responsible for your brother’s death. 
Therefore you may as well give up the Quest, for only harm can come 
of your following it now.” 

Thereupon Bors grew sadder than ever, and took no notice of 
the road until he realized that they were drawing rein before the 
gate of a fair white castle. There a young and strangely beautiful 
woman came forward to meet them, followed by a troop of maidens 
almost as fair as she. They welcomed Bors with especial 
warmth, and led him into a stately banquet hall, where a feast 
was spread of all the delicacies of which he had been so long 
deprived. 



A YOUNG AND STRANGELY BEAUTIFUL WOMAN 


126 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“Eat and drink. Sir Knight,” said the mistress of the castle, 
“and afterwards you may join us in our games and dances.” 

But Bors answered: 

“Fair Lady, I am one of the Grail seekers, and cannot turn from 
the Quest for any pleasure. Furthermore I am bound by a promise 
to eat nothing but dry bread and to drink nothing but pure water 
until I achieve the open vision. I pray you, therefore, to excuse 
me.” 

To which the lady replied: 

“Sir Knight, has not this good priest told you that your search* 
is in vain because your brother’s blood will be required at your hands.^ 
Forget that you ever set out upon this mad Quest, and remain here 
with us and be happy like other men.” 

At this the maidens one and all stretched out to him soft, white, 
appealing hands of entreaty as they echoed the words of their mis- 
tress : 

“Yes, stay with us and be happy like other men.” 

Then Bors hesitated. Before him rose on the one hand a picture 
of his lonely rides along desolate, man-deserted, God-forsaken roads, 
and on the other that of this gorgeous hall with its feasting and 
laughter, sweet music and fair faces. Then his eyes wandered over 
the dainty dishes to the rosy cheeks and merry glances of the maid- 
ens until he had all but yielded, when they chanced to alight upon 
the object by which he had made his vow — the cross-shaped hilt of 
his trusty sword. 

In another instant he had seized it, drawn it from its scabbard, 
and was holding it aloft. Then a strange thing happened: A great 
cry burst from the lips of mistress and maidens, while the black garb 
of the so-called priest dropped from his shoulders revealing him as 
the wicked creature he was. A great wind began to sweep over the 
castle accompanied by deafening thunder and blinding flashes of 
lightning; then, in another moment, castle and priest and maidens 
had vanished from his sight, and Bors found himself standing by 
a wide stretch of sea, still holding aloft the sacred symbol which had 
been the means of his salvation. By his side he presently distinguished 
the form of his good friend, the kindly hermit, who said to him gladly: 

“Bors, Bors, thank God you have overcome your two great 
temptations! That man, dressed like a priest, was in fact a wicked 


THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL 


127 


enchanter, and the woman was likewise an enchantress whose sole 
aim at present is to prevent the Grail-seeking knights from achieving 
the Quest. You did right when you rescued the woman rather than 
your brother, and furthermore Lionel is not dead, for he was saved 
by Gawain who chanced to be riding that way; and some day you will 
see him again.” 

While the good man had been speaking, Bors had espied a speck of 
a sail on the far horizon which had gradually drawn nearer until now 
he perceived that a little vessel covered with a wondrous canopy of 
white samite lay moored near the shore. 

“Bors,” continued the hermit, “now I may tell you with certainty 
that you are one of the three who shall see the Grail in open vision. 
Enter into that ship, therefore, and await in peace such adventures 
as may come to you.” 

So Bors obeyed, and presently felt himself being borne swiftly 
out to sea. 

THE ADVENTURE OF SIR PERCIVAL 

And now we come to the adventure that befell Percival the Pure 
whose place had ever been the very next to the Siege Perilous, and whose 
soul was beyond the reach of such temptations as assailed Launcelot 
and Bors. 

Some days after his parting with his companions he met with 
twenty armed knights of ferocious aspect who demanded his name 
and his errand. 

“I am Percival of Arthur’s Round Table,” he replied, “and I 
ride in Quest of the Holy Grail.” 

“Then we will slay you!” they all cried together, “for we are 
the bitter enemies of King Arthur, and of all those who have set out 
upon that mad Quest.” 

Thereupon they dropped their spears and charged upon him in 
a body. The first and the second and the third he was able to over- 
throw; but when they continued to rush upon him from all sides, 
he could no longer defend himself, so that presently his good steed 
was killed, and he lay helpless among them awaiting death. 

Suddenly the sound of a galloping horse’s hoofs struck his ear, 
then he caught sight of the flash of bright, flame-colored armor com- 
ing directly towards him. In another moment this strange knight 


128 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


was among his captors, striking right and left with his sword. None 
who felt one stroke lingered to encounter a second. Some fled in 
terror, while many more dropped never to rise again; so that very 
soon Percival saw that not one of his tormentors was left to do him 
harm. Thereupon the knight in the flame-colored armor, waiting 
for no thanks, wheeled his horse and vanished like a sunbeam amid 
the shadows of the forest. 

Gladly would Percival have followed his rescuer, for he knew 
full well that the strange knight was Galahad; but, alas! his good and 
faithful steed lay dead by his side! He could think of nothing better 
to do, therefore, than to pursue on foot the road down which the 
great Galahad had disappeared; so he plodded wearily on his way while 
all grew dark about him, until at last, from sheer exhaustion he sank 
upon the ground and was soon fast asleep. 

'When he awoke the moonlight was sifting down through the 
foliage, so that in the weird light he was able to distinguish the form 
of a strangely beautiful woman standing by his side. 

“Sir Knight,” said she, “why are you lying here by the road- 
side like a beggar.?” 

“Because, fair Lady,” said he, “my horse has been killed, and I 
have walked until weariness overcame me.” 

“AYas your errand, then, so very pressing.?” and the voice of the 
woman had grown soft and sweet and alluring. 

“It was, fair Lady, and it still is,” replied Percival, “for I am 
in Quest of the Holy Grail; and I took this road along which Sir 
Galahad has preceded me, because I know that he at least shall achieve 
the open vision.” 

“If that is your errand. Sir Knight, I would speed you with all 
my heart,” said the woman still in that soft, caressing tone. “Will 
you, therefore, accept a swift steed from me.?” 

Percival thanked her gratefully, whereupon she disappeared to 
return presently with a handsome black charger richly caparisoned. 
In another moment, overjoyed at the thought of being able to pro- 
ceed without further loss of time, Percival leaped into the saddle; 
but, before he could turn to express his gratitude once more, the horse 
was away like the wind, so that, experienced rider though he was, 
he found great difficulty in keeping his seat. Presently he discov- 
ered that he could neither stop nor turn the beast and that they 


THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL 


129 


were going at such a tremendous pace that within an hour they had 
completed a full four-days’ journey. Then, all at once, he heard the 
roar of rough water just ahead of him, and realized that his steed 
was about to plunge straight into the ocean with his rider still on 
his back. 

Thus the end of the Quest and of all earthly things seemed to 
be at hand, but just at that moment Percival bethought himself of 
his sword, and struck the horse’s neck with its cross-shaped hilt. 
Instantly the beast took a great 
leap into the air, thus unseating 
his rider who fell backwards upon 
the soft sand of the shore. Yet 
the horse never stopped, but 
plunged madly into the waves 
and disappeared in the midst of 
a bright blue flame which was 
presently extinguished by the 
water leaving a thick black 
smoke behind. 

When this had cleared away 
Percival arose to find standing 
beside him a kind-faced man in 
the dress of a hermit. 

“Good Knight,” said the 
stranger, “you have had a nar- 
row escape. That steed which 
you rode was not a horse at all, 
but a fiend sent by the powers of 
darkness to prevent, if possible, 
your achieving the Quest. The 

beautiful woman who gave him to you is a wicked enchantress from 
whose clutches Bors has but lately escaped.” 

“Ah! Holy Man,” exclaimed Percival, “tell me, if you can, 
shall I ever behold the Sacred Cup.?” 

“Yes,” was the comforting repljs “you are one of the three to 
whom the open vision will in time be granted. Step into that little 
boat which lies yonder amid the rocks, and rest in peace for a 



THEN HE SAW THAT THE MAN WAS BORS” 


130 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Then Percival looked, and beheld a tiny craft covered with a 
canopy of rich white samite. He stepped on board, therefore, and 
was soon fast asleep. When he awoke he realized that he was upon 
the high seas, and that a man was bending over him. Then he saw 
that the man was Bors. 


GLOSSARY 10 


1. Caparisoned, harnessed ready for battle 

(said of a war-horse). 

2. Chalice, a consecrated cup. 

3. Charger, a war-horse. 

4. Exploit, a deed marked by heroism or 

braverj’. 

5. Grail, a consecrated cup. 


6. Hermit, one who lived in solitude for reli- 

gious worship. 

7. Hermitage, the dwelling place of a hermit. 

8. Impede, to hinder. 

9. Mere, a pond, pool, or lakelet. 

10. Samite, a cloth like satin with glistening 

threads of silver and gold. 

11. Palfrey, a saddle horse (not a war-horse). 


XI 


Achieving of H)o Quest 


“Then suddenly he fell asleep in Christ, 

And a great miiUitude of angels bore 

His soul to Heaven. And out of Heaven there came 

The semblance of a Hand, that, reaching down. 

Caught up the Grail, and no man saw it more.” 

Westwood’s “Legend of the Syren Isles.” 


LTHOUGH he had come to Camelot weaponless, Galahad 
had, as we know, soon won for himself a sword; yet he was 
^ still without a shield when he parted from his companions 
at the cross-roads. Thus he rode, therefore, but half-armed, for 
several days alone, until one afternoon toward evensong he chanced 
upon an abbey where he begged shelter for the night. There he found 
that another of the Grail-seekers, Sir Bagdemagus by name, had 
preceded him. 

As the two sat talking with the monks, the good brothers told 
them of a certain shield which had been in their abbey longer than 
the oldest man among them could remember, andhbout which there 
was a prophecy to the effect that none but the best knight in all 
the world might ever carry it without coming to grievous harm. 

Upon hearing this Sir Bagdemagus, who seems to have been a 
man somewhat on the order of poor Balin the Savage, exclaimed en- 
thusiastically: 

“To-morrow I will try this adventure, and if I fail, you. Sir 
Galahad, may try it after me!” 

Accordingly, the following morning, as soon as they had heard 
mass, the Abbot himself, at the request of his guest, brought forth 
from its long resting place behind the high altar the mystic shield 
and bound it upon the knight’s neck, saying gravely: 

131 


132 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“Sir Bagdemagus, I warn you to consider well before you bear 
this scutcheon in joust or battle.” 

And indeed its very appearance might have caused a more 
cautious man to hesitate, for it was a wondrous thing with a ground 
as white as snow upon which had been blazoned a blood-red cross. 

But Bagdemagus, quite undaunted, took it vauntingly, saying, 
however, to Galahad: 

“Remain here for a short time, I pray you; and if I fail my 
squire shall ride back to bring you the scutcheon.” 

So the rash fellow set out and had scarcely gone two miles before 
he beheld coming directly toward him with lowered lance a knight 
clothed in snow-white armor riding a milk-white steed. No sooner 
had the two crashed together than the stranger’s spear, glancing past 
his opponent’s shield, struek Bagdemagus through the shoulder so 
that he was instantly hurled from his horse. Thereupon the White 
Knight dismounted also, and took the cross-emblazoned scutcheon 
from his fallen foe, exclaiming: 

“Sir Bagdemagus, it was folly for you to bear this shield. Were 
you not warned that none save the best and the purest might carry 
it in safety.?” 

Then turning to the squire he placed the mysterious thing in his 
hand saying: 

“Bind your master upon his horse, and take him back to the 
abbey where, perchance, he may be healed of his w'ound. But de- 
liver this shield to Sir Galahad only, and bear him my greetings.” 

The stranger vanished, and the squire obeyed his instructions, 
so that by noon on that self-same day it was Galahad’s turn to fare 
forth upon the Quest with the mystic scutcheon bound about his 
neck. 

He had not gone far, however, when he, too, chanced to meet 
with the White Knight, who, instead of putting his spear in rest, 
reined his horse and greeted Galahad most courteously. 

“Sir Knight,” said he, “that shield which you bear has truly a 
marvelous history.” 

“So I am beginning to think. Fair Stranger,” replied Galahad. 
“Will you be so kind as to relate it to me?” 

“Gladlj%” was the answer; “it runs thus: In the days of Joseph 
of Arimathaea there reigned in the far-away city of Sarras a king 


THE ACHIEVING OE THE QUEST 


133 



whose name was Evelake. He was converted to Christianity by the 
preaching of the saintly Joseph, and bore that shield in a great 
battle that he waged against the heathen. When the victory was 
won, Joseph took the shield, which had been blank till then, and, 
with his finger traced upon it the outlines of that scarlet cross, saying, 
that the color would never grow dim 
until the last man of his own lineage 
should bind it upon his neck and 
thus fare forth on the Quest of the 
Holy Grail. When Joseph came to 
Britain, bearing the Sacred Cup, he 
brought this shield also and hid it 
away in the monastery to await jmur 
coming. Sir Galahad. Take it, there- 
fore, and go forward until you attain 
the perfect vision.” 

Having spoken thus, the White 
Knight suddenly vanished, and Gal- 
ahad rode on his way alone meeting 
with many minor adventures, some 
of which have already been related, 
such as his joust with Launcelot and 
his rescue of Percival. 

One day in his wanderings he 
chanced upon the same half-ruined 
chapel where Launcelot had slept at 
the foot of the stone cross. He 
stepped inside and kneeled before 
the altar praying for counsel as to a king whose name was evelake 
what to do next, and as he prayed 
he seemed to hear a voice saying: 

“Go, Galahad, to the Castle of the Maidens and redress the 
WTongs of that wicked place.” 

So he arose and fared on his way until he saw looming before 
him in the distance a strong fortress with a deep moat around it 
and a fair river running by. Seeing an old man hobbling along by 
the roadside, Galahad drew rein and inquired: 

“Good Sir, can you tell me the name of that castle yonder.^” 



134 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“That,” was the reply, “is the Castle of the Maidens; and an 
accursed place it is, full of mischief and villainy! I advise you. Sir 
Knight, as you value your life, to turn back.” 

But Galahad answered: 

“I thank you, friend, but because of the danger I will ride on,” 
and he spurred his horse accordingly. 

Presently he met with seven maidens who seemed to be fleeing 
from some danger unseen by him, and they called out to him in 
warning: 

“Sir Knight, you ride in great peril. We advise you to turn back !” 

Last of all he was stopped by a young squire who delivered to 
him the following message: 

“Sir Knight, the masters of this castle defy you, and bid you 
come no farther on peril of your life unless you will show them what 
your business here is!” 

“My business,” replied Galahad unflinchingly, “is to destroy 
the wicked custom of this castle.” 

“Then you will have much to do,” said the squire, with a shrug 
of his shoulders. 

But Galahad only spurred his horse once more and rode for- 
ward until he saw, issuing from the castle gate, seven mighty knights 
in black armor bearing deadly black weapons. With one furious 
bound they were upon him, but he, thrusting forth his spear, smote 
the foremost to the ground and managed to ward off the blows of 
the others whose lances, the moment they came in contact with the 
mystic shield, were shivered in pieces. Then he drew out his trusty 
sword and set upon his opponents so fiercely that he drove them 
before him, step by step, to the very gate where he slew them to 
the last man. 

And now he was able to pass as far as the inner portal of the 
castle, where he was greeted by the keeper, an aged man in cloak 
and hood of purest white. 

“Galahad,” said the warder, “thank God you have now over- 
come the brothers of darkness, the Seven Deadly Sins, who for long 
years have kept imprisoned the gentle maidens known as the Vir- 
tues, and have slain every knight who has tried to come to the rescue. 
Take, therefore, the keys to tJie castle, for you have, vanquished 
those who menaced the integrity of your soul.” 


THE ACHIEVING OF THE QUES' 


135 


So Galahad obeyed, reverently unlocking the inner gate and 
passing in to the fortress where he was greeted by a great multitude 
of fair maidens, pure and sweet as flowers upon which the morning 
dew still sparkles, who gathered about him shyly to express their 
gratitude. 

“Brave and noble Knight,” said they, “you are welcome in- 
deed; long have we awaited this deliverance!” 

Then they told him of the wicked custom of the castle, and of 
the seven cruel brothers whose delight had been the slaying of good 
knights, who rode accompanied by fair damsels, so that they might 
capture the maidens and make them prisoners behind those gloomy 
walls. 

“In fact, of late,” they added, “they have slain every knight 
who rode by, because she who is the true mistress of the castle, from 
whom they took it by force of arms, had prophesied that one day a 
man who rode alone would overthrow them all.” 

“And where is this lady?” inquired Galahad. 

“She languishes,” was the reply, “in the deepest and darkest 
dungeon of the fortress. She is the fairest of our number. Sir Knight, 
for her name is Love.” 

Then Galahad turned and strode through many a winding pas- 
sage, opening doors that had long remained closed, sometimes almost 
losing his way in the gloom, until at last he found the dungeon which, 
however, was illumined by the very presence of that loveliest of all 
the Virtues in whom no darkness is. Then he released the maiden, 
restoring to her her lost inheritance, and causing all the barons of 
the country to do her homage. After which, with perhaps his first 
lingering look behind, he mounted his horse and fared forth once 
more upon the Quest. 

It was not long after this adventure that he found himself ac- 
cepting the hospitality of the same kindly hermit who had enter- 
tained Launcelot and Bors; and that night, while the weary Galahad 
slept, a maiden appeared to the holy man requesting speech with his 
guest and refusing to wait until morning. 

“Sir Galahad,” said she, when he had come forth to greet her, 
“you must ride with me at once.” 

And in spite of the strangeness of the request, Galahad prepared 
to obey, for both he and the hermit felt that it was the right thing 


136 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


for him to do. So he armed himself, leaped on his charger, and fol- 
lowed his guide for the remainder of the night through the deej) 
shadows of the forest until, when morning dawned, he saw before 
him a vast expanse of sea. Near the shore there lay moored a little 
ship with the wondrous canopy of white samite. 

The maiden tied her palfrey to a tree, bidding Galahad do like- 
wise with his charger, then she preceded him on board the boat, 
where to his surprise and joy, he found Bors and Percival apparently 
anxiously awaiting his coming. When the first glad greetings were 
over, the maiden who had been his guide turned to Percival, inquir- 
ing: 

“Sir Knight, do you know nie.^” 

“No,” replied Percival in wonder, “fair Maiden, I do not.” 

“I am your sister,” said she, “whom you have not seen since I 
entered the convent and you rode away to become a knight of the 
Round Table.” 

Then, before her brother had fully recovered from his surprise, 
she added gravely: 

“But come, all three of you, that I may show you the marvels 
of our little vessel.” 

Wondering more and more the young men followed her until 
they came to a table upon which was lying a sword in a scabbard of 
serpent’s skin. The hilt was of finest gold set with lustrous jewels, 
and all about the weapon was beautiful except the girdle which was 
fastened to it. This seemed to be made of frayed hemp — neither 
strong nor fair. 

“Sir Galahad, this sword is for you,” said Percival’s sister. 
“Henceforth you will need a better one even than that which you 
drew from the marble. There is none stronger than this, unless it 
be Excalibur, for it belonged to King David in ages past; and this 
little ship was built for you by his son Solomon, who, as you know, 
was the wisest man that ever lived. He had a wife, however, who 
in one thing was wiser than he, for when he bid her make a girdle 
that should be worthy of so wondrous a weapon, she, to his dismay, 
made this, saying that it should remain upon the sword until the 
coming of the best knight in all the world, at which time a new belt 
would appear representing a maiden’s sacrifice of the thing of which 
she was most proud in all the world. Then Solomon acknowledged 


THE ACHIEVING OF THE QUEST 


137 


his wife’s wisdom, and, having laid sword and sheath and girdle in 
this ship, which he called Faith, set the tiny craft adrift upon the blue 
waters of the Mediterranean where it has floated up and down ever 
since, unseen by man, awaiting your coming. Oh Galahad, the one 
perfect knight without fear and without reproach!” 

“That is a wondrous story indeed;” said Galahad, taking up 
the sword that he might examine it more closely. “But where, after 
all, is the girdle, for this will scarcely hold?” 

Then the maiden drew forth from the folds of her garments a 
silver casket which she opened with a tiny golden key that hung 
about her neck. Within lay a belt that seemed to have been spun 
from the finest threads of purest gold, so soft was it to the touch and 
so brightly did it sparkle in the morning sunlight. With hands that 
trembled slightly she fastened the sword to it and then bound it to 
Galahad’s side, saying softly: 

“‘My knight, my love, my knight of heaven. 

Oh thou, my love, whose love is one with mine, 

I, maiden, round thee, maiden, bind my belt. 

Go forth, for thou shalt see what I have seen. 

And break through all, till one will crown thee king 
Far in the spiritual city.’” 

And as she spoke, sending the deathless passion in her eyes ' 
through him till he, too, believed in her belief, he perceived that the 
girdle was made of the maiden’s own beautiful hair which she had 
cut off upon forsaking the world for the cloister. Presently he real- 
ized that she was speaking again. 

“My work is ended now,” she was saying in a voice in which 
there was no trace of sadness. “My soul will soon be free. There- 
fore do not grieve for me, but set my body adrift in a little boat 
that you will find when the time comes. Then continue on your 
way to the Castle of Carbonek where King Pelles awaits you for 
the healing of his wound.” 

And, indeed, within a few days it had all fallen out just as the 
maiden had foretold, so that one fair morning when Percival’s sister 
was no more, the three knights found themselves nearing land with 
the towers and battlements of Carbonek looming out of the mist 


138 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


before them. In their case, however, there were no lions to bar the 
way, but respectful porters who threw wide the gates at their ap- 
proach as if they were expected guests. 

They were presently ushered into the same great banquet hall 
where Balin had for the first and last time come face to face with 
his mortal foe; but there was no feast in progress now. The knights 
and ladies of the court were there assembled it is true; yet a strange 
hush seemed to have settled over the entire company, for on a dais, 
elevated above their heads, lay the wounded King with eyes closed, 
and a pallor on his cheeks that might well have been mistaken for 
the pallor of death had not a breath like a deep sigh escaped his 
white lips from time to time. 

Presently, as the three knights stood gazing in mute surprise at 
the strange scene, a door at the farther end of the hall swung noise- 
lessly back upon its hinges, and Galahad alone, of all the company, 
became aware of the fact that a marvelous procession of Mysteries 
was about to pass through the chamber. Bors and Percival saw 
only a glorious light, and the other occupants of the room apparently 
saw nothing at all. 

First came that familiar white-robed figure whose face was con- 
cealed by no hood now, but upon whose head sparkled a golden 
crown. He bore before him, held aloft in both hands, the Mystic 
Grail itself, covered with white silk, through the transparent texture 
of which a soft ruby glow penetrated illuminating the whole room. 
Behind him came a maiden in the scarlet robe of shame bearing 
upon a golden salver the halo-circled head of John the Baptist; and 
following her were two knights each with a seven-branched golden 
candlestick; while last of all there appeared another knight carry- 
ing the bleeding spear with which Balin so long ago had dealt the 
Dolorous Stroke. 

And now, upon sight of that spear, Galahad suddenly came to a 
full realization of his errand in the Castle of the Grail. With a heart 
filled with pity for human sin and suffering such as he, in his utter 
purity, had never known before, he stepped forward and touched the 
bleeding point of the mystic spear, then he mounted to the King’s 
side and applied that drop of blood to the gaping wound. 

Thereupon a wondrous thing happened: For one brief moment 
the long-suffering monarch stood erect upon his feet with life and 


THE ACHIEVING OF THE QUEST 139 

health bounding once more through his veins as in the days of his 
youth. 

“Galahad! Galahad! my grandson !” he cried. “How long have 
I awaited your coming and this glad day which marks at once the 
hour of my healing and of my blessed release from the thraldom of 
this world! But your work here, my son, is now accomplished: for 
you have healed my wound and you have seen the Grail once more. 
Henceforth your duty lies far from the Island of Britain in the spirit- 
ual city — the city of Sarras. To-morrow you must leave this land 
with your faithful companions, and the Holy Grail will go with you, 
for you are now its Keeper on the Earth.” 

And with those words a light of joy unspeakable broke upon the 
old King’s face. Whereupon he raised his eyes to heaven while his 
body sank lifeless at Galahad’s feet. 

’ The following morning, according to King Belles’ dying com- 
mand, as well as in obedience to Galahad’s own inner promptings, 
the three knights set sail once more in the Ship of Solomon. In the 
bow of the little craft shone a wondrous light which Galahad alone 
was able to recognize as proceeding from the Holy Grail, which was 
held in tender solicitude by an angel who was also guiding the frail 
bark of human faith on its perilous journey across the boisterous 
sea. 

Thus they sailed for many days in sunlight and moonlight and 
starlight, and the Grail was ever with them, so that they knew neither 
hunger nor cold nor weariness, until at last, rising from the blue 
waves of the Mediterranean, they beheld the turrets and towers and 
battlements of the city of Sarras — the spiritual city — over which King 
Evelake had ruled in the long ago. 

The angel had left them now, and the Grail stood upon a table 
of gold and silver in the bow of the boat; but it proved far too heavy 
to lift even with the combined strength of the three mighty knights. 
As they drew to their moorings, therefore, Galahad seeing a wretched 
cripple sitting by the water’s edge, cried out to him : 

“Come and help us, we pray you, to carry ashore this table with 
its sacred burden!” 

The old man raised his bleared eyes which saw nothing but the 
table in question, and answered in a shaking voice: 


140 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


“Alas! Stranger, I cannot help you, for it is many years since 
I stood upon my feet.” 

“Nevertheless,” replied Galahad, “come and do your best.” 

With that the cripple stretched forth his hands in an effort to 
rise, whereupon he feit a sudden rush of healthy blood coursing 
through his veins, and leaping joyfully forward was able to assist the 
knights in bearing their precious burden to the altar of the great 
cathedral. 

Naturally it was not long before the news of this and of other 
wonders was spread abroad through the town; and one or two ancient 
inhabitants went so far as to declare that the shield borne by the 
knight in the flame-colored armor was none other than the one which 
had belonged to their own King Evelake of sainted memory. 

But he who at that time was sitting upon the throne of Sarras 
was a usurper and a cruel tyrant. Therefore, when these rumors 
reached his ears, he called to mind an old prophecy which foretold 
that a man bearing such a shield should some day appear to reign 
over the spiritual city. Without loss of time he sent for the strangers 
saying that he wished to make them welcome at his court. But no 
sooner w^ere they in his power than he caused them to be seized and 
thrown into the deepest and darkest dungeon of his castle. 

Strange to say, however, it was not the prisoners who languished, 
for to them the Holy Grail, though always veiled, appeared daily, 
transforming their dismal cell into the fairest palace that the heart 
of man could conceive, and, as on board the ship, they knew neither 
hunger nor thirst nor weariness, but awaited only the rapturous 
moment when they might behold the Sacred Chalice in open vision. 

With the King and his people, however, it was a very different 
matter. Plague and pestilence, drought and famine stalked abroad 
throughout the land, while the inhabitants whispered to one another 
with white, awe-stricken faces: 

“Alas! these things have come upon us because our King has 
imprisoned the knight who bears the fateful shield!” 

Many a deputation, therefore, did that stricken people send to 
their sovereign imploring the release of the captives, to all of which 
he turned a deaf ear, until one awful day he awoke to the fact that he 
himself was a victim of the deadly plague, and that he had not many 
hours to live. 


THE ACHIEVING OF THE QUEST 


141 


Then in all haste he called for Galahad and his companions, 
saying, when the former stood before him in the full strength and 
vigor of his young manhood: 

“Good Knight, my sins towards jmu have been my undoing, 
for you are that great one of whom the prophets have long foretold. 
Forgive me, and when I am gone reign here in my stead. Thus shall 
this wasted land be restored to peace and plenty once more.” 

So was fulfilled the prophecy that Galahad, the knight without 
reproach, should sit upon the throne of good King Evelake, far away 
in the spiritual city. 

And now followed happy days for the people of Sarras. Their 
new King soon caused a fair chest to be made and placed before the 
altar in the great cathedral before which he and his two companions 
knelt frequently in silent prayer. Rumor said that the chest con- 
tained the Holy Grail. 

One day, however, never to be forgotten of his people, Galahad 
whispered to his two faithful friends that he had now finished his 
work on earth, and that the time of his departure was at hand. 

“Come with me, therefore, to the Cathedral,” said he, “for when 
my spirit leaves my body, you as well as I shall achieve the open 
vision.” 

They followed him in reverent silence to the holy place of wor- 
ship, where, kneeling before the high altar they beheld once again 
the form of Joseph of Arimathaea in his cloak and hood of spotless 
white. In a moment the three knights had fallen on their knees 
behind him— Galahad a little nearer than the rest; and thus they 
remained, while the saintly old man arose to remove the Holy Grail 
from its resting place within the chest. Presently he held it aloft, 
and now all three realized that they could at last see it plainly, for 
it was shrouded by neither cloud nor covering of silk. 

Nor was the light that streamed from it like the rosy glow of 
other days, for the blood which it contained now shone like a clear 
red gem resting in the pure crystal of the Cup. And as they gazed 
it became brighter and brighter, streaming up among the arches of 
the roof, so that it seemed almost to be bringing to life old pictures 
and statues that had long been dimmed by the dust of the years 
and the smoke of incense. Suddenly the air became tremulous with 


142 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


melody. The very stones seemed to be bursting into the full har- 
mony of song. The waves of music vibrated to and fro, now beat- 
ing against the ancient walls, swelling into full chords like the roll 
of a mighty organ, then dying away into soft, far-reaching echoes 
melting into silence and infinite peace. 

When the last note had sobbed itself into stillness, Joseph set 
the Grail upon the altar, then he turned toward the kneeling Gala- 
had and kissed him on the forehead. As he did so, Bors and Perci- 
val perceived that the red robe of their beloved companion, the sym- 
bol of his earthly warfare, was about to drop from his shoulders, 
leaving him clothed in the spotless white garb of immortality. 

Then suddenly Joseph and the Grail vanished from their sight, 
while all grew dark about them. After a while, however, they were 
able to distinguish the lifeless form of Galahad lying before them on 
the steps of the altar. 

That day, among the poor, blinded people, there was dole in 
the city of Sarras; but Bors and Percival could not mourn — for they 
had seen. 

Percival soon after found a cell outside the walls of the city 
where he lived for a short time the life of a hermit in fasting and 
prayer. And Bors stayed with him till he died; then he buried him 
beside Galahad in the great cathedral, after which he set sail for 
distant Britain. There he meant to relate to Arthur all his adven- 
tures in Quest of the Holy Grail, but when he saw the condition of 
the White King’s once beautiful realm, he found his lips sealed so 
that he could only shake his head and answer with tears in his eyes: 

“Ask me not, for I may not speak of it. Yes, I have seen.” 


GLOSSARY 11 


1. Abbey, a monastery, the dwelling place of 


9. Lineage, family. 

10. Moat, a ditch outside the walls of a fort- 


an abbott. 

2. Chalice, a consecrated cup. 

;J. Charger, a war-horse. 

4. Dais, a raised platform 

5. Dole, grief, mourning, lamentation. 

G. Emblazoned, decorated with heraldic de- 


ress. 

11. Palfrey, a saddle horse (not a war-horse). 

12. Salver, a tray of silver or other heavy 


metal. 

13. Scutcheon, a shield. 

14. Squire, one who waited upon a knight. 

15. Warden, a doorkeeper. 


vices. 

7. Evensong, an evening service of prayer. 
8 Grail, a consecrated cup. 


XII 


Ol)e 45as5in9 of ^rt^ur 

“ Then from the dawn it seem’d there came, but faint 
As from beyond the limit of the world, 

Like the last echo born of a great cry. 

Sounds, as if some fair city were one voice 
Around a king returning from his wars. 

Tennyson’s “Passing of Arthur.’’ 

VEN before the days of the great Quest, when the flower of 
chivalry bloomed at the height of its glory in Arthur’s halls, 
there had already crept into that Eden among the blossoms 
of loyalty, high ideals and purity, the green-eyed serpent Jealousy; 
and the traitor, so long unsuspected, was none other than the King’s 
cwn nephew, Mordred. 

This Judas had watched Arthur’s rise to power and Launcelot’s 
ever-widening reputation for prowess with a heart growing more and 
more envious as the years went by; and always he had been waiting 
for an opportunity to carry out his wicked designs. To be sure, 
w^hile the Round Table flourished, and when the King was con- 
stantly surrounded by his hundred and forty-eight faithful knights, 
there seemed little chance of his being able to do great harm; but 
now at last he believed that his hour had come. 

One by one the broken remnant of the Grail-seekers had strag- 
gled back to Camelot. Yet when all had arrived who might ever 
be expected, there was but a tenth of the former number, and even 
these, for the most part, had passed through such terrible experi- 
ences that they were no longer the men they had been in the brave 
days of old ; so that Arthur was forced to exclaim : 

“Oh, my knights, was I too dark a prophet when I foretold that 
most of you would follow, not the holy light of the Grail, but wan- 

143 


144 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


dering fires that would lead you at last into the quagmire of doubt 
and empty dreams?” 

Having thus spoken the King, in a vain attempt to persuade 
himself that all might yet be well with the realm if not with his own 
heart, raised to knighthood men to fill the vacant places, and these 
new knights with the remnant of the old Order rode forth to hawk 
and to hunt, to joust and to tourney, and to assail the heathen who 
now, more than ever, broke over the borders. Yet all was not as 
it had been, and Arthur knew it, and Bors and Launcelot and the 
fair Guinevere knew it, and, worst of all, Mordred knew it, and 
said to himself: 

“Now is my time to strike!” 

And strike he did in the spot where he knew the King to be 
most vulnerable, for he accused Launcelot, he whom Arthur loved 
and trusted above all other men, of treason; and so subtly did he 
mingle a grain of truth with the mass of his infamous lies that the 
King at last believed the slander, and with bitter words of reproach 
ordered his greatest knight from his realm. 

But even before Launcelot could manage to make his escape to 
his own city of Ben wick across the sea, a skirmish took place between 
the knights who remained on Arthur’s side and those who took the 
part of Launcelot in that terrible civil strife; and in that encounter, 
where a man scarcely knew which was friend and which was foe, it 
chanced that the noble Gareth was slain, as was also his older brother 
Gaheris. 

Thereupon Gawain, the one remaining son of good Queen Belli- 
cent, maddened by the thought of the death of both his brothers, 
swore vengeance upon Launcelot whom he held responsible, and 
joined with Mordred, the depth of whose plot he did not suspect 
for a moment, in fanning the flame of the King’s anger, so that at 
last the two together persuaded Arthur that Launcelot had with- 
drawn to Benwick to raise a force that he might return and march 
against Camelot. Then the King having marshalled his own troops 
turned to his nephew, saying: 

“jMordred, I am about to lay siege to this traitor Launcelot 
before he has time to land in Britain. I leave you, therefore, because 
you are nearest to me in blood, to rule in my stead during my absence, 
and I also leave my Queen in your charge.” 


THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 


145 


Then Mordred bowed low to conceal his crafty smile, for he saw 
that his plot was now working out to absolute perfection. 

Within a few weeks, therefore, Arthur accompanied by Gawain, 
who still swore vengeance upon Launcelot, stood with a great army 
outside the gates of Ben wick and challenged the inhabitants to com- 
bat. For a while, much to the King’s surprise, there was no response; 
for Launcelot, wronged as he had been, still could not bear the 
thought of raising his hand against his Liege Lord and former friend, 
so that he was deaf to the entreaties of his knights who feared that 
his silence might be misinterpreted for cowardess. 

The first to plead with him was our old acquaintance Sir Bag- 
demagus, who was now healed of the wound he had received from 
the White Knight when he had rashly borne the mystic shield in- 
tended only for Galahad. Said he: 

“Launcelot, your courtesy will be our ruin, for Arthur’s army 
will override the whole land and lay it waste while we hide here in 
our holes like frightened rabbits.” 

Then came the seven brothers of North Wales — men strong 
and brave as might be found in any land, saying: 

“For the sake of your honor and ours. Sir Launcelot, give us 
leave to meet the enemy in the open field; for we have never been 
wont to cower behind castle walls!” 

But Launcelot only shook his head sadly, saying: 

“The enemy! Alas! I cannot fight against my King. Wait, I 
pray you, until I have sent a messenger to Arthur asking for a treaty 
of peace.” 

So the mighty Launcelot, he who had never quailed before 
sword or lance or battering-ram, sent forth a damsel accompanied 
by a dwarf to beg the King to return in peace to Britain; and doubt- 
less Arthur, whose heart was no more in the war than Launcelot’s, 
would have yielded to the entreaty had it not been for Gawain who 
still goaded him on; so that the reply was the leading of the royal 
host to the very walls of the city and the beginning of the siege. 

Then at last Launcelot gave the word, and his army marched 
out in battle array from behind the walls of Benwick that they might 
meet the enemy in the open field. 

All day long the terrible struggle raged, but Launcelot had given 
strict orders that harm should be done neither to the King nor to 


146 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Gawain; and the soldiers obeyed this command until Arthur, no 
longer realizing fully what he did, charged against the good Sir Bors, 
who, as Launcelot’s cousin, was fighting on his relative’s side. Bors 
met the charge with his spear, but in so doing threw the King from 
his horse. 

Launcelot, however, who had himself taken little part in the 
combat, saw the fall of his life-long friend and dashed to where 
Arthur lay. Leaping from his own charger he raised the King from 
the ground, saying sadly: 

“Sire, take my horse. You and your soldiers fight against me 
without mercy, but I cannot fight against my Sovereign nor see him 
overthrown.” 

Then Arthur, who could not look into his old friend’s eyes, took 
the horse and rode from the field calling his men after him; and 
Launcelot with his army retreated into the city. 

Now in all probability this would have ended the struggle, for 
the King’s own noble nature was conquered by the nobility of Launce- 
lot, but Gawain would not have it so, and, because Arthur flatly 
refused to send his army into the field again, made the following 
proposition: 

“Sire,” said he, “I will meet the traitor in single combat. Then 
we will fight until one shall kill the other, and that will end the 
war.” 

So a message to that effect was sent t3 Launcelot, and it was 
finally agreed that the two should meet the following morning just 
outside the gate of the city. Now Gawain had arranged that the 
contest should take place in the morning for the simple reason that, 
long before, a magician had bestowed upon him the gift of growing 
stronger every minute of the day from nine o’clock till noon, at 
which hour he possessed three times his natural strength, but imme- 
diately after which time he returned to his normal condition. 

Launcelot, having never happened to joust with Gawain, knew 
nothing about this peculiarity, but he had not been fighting long 
on this day before he realized that he had an opponent of unusual 
prowess. In fact it seemed that he could not strike Gawain at all, 
but was forced to use all his strength in simple defense. So, for a 
long time neither was greatly harmed, but when high noon was 
passed Launcelot suddenly felt a change come over his antagonist. 


THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 


147 


Then he aimed a mighty blow so that Gawain fell badly wounded, 
and Launcelot stood still beside him, resting on his sword. 

“Why do you stop fighting.?” cried Gawain, maddened by the 
agony of his wound. “We have sworn to fight it out to the end, 
therefore kill me now and finish.” 

“You know,” replied Launcelot gravely and sadly, “that a 
knight may not slay one who is helpless and least of all one who 
has been his friend.” 

“Kill me and make an end!” persisted Gawain, “for I am no 
friend of yours; and I swear by the death of my two brothers that 
if you let me live I will fight you again as soon as I am able, unless 
you have grown too great a coward to risk the encounter!” 

To this taunt, coming as it did from the lips of a man in terrible 
pain, Launcelot made no answer, but gave the order that Gawain be 
carried back to his tent while he himself returned to his own fort- 
ress. 

Some weeks now passed by while Gawain lay ill of his wound, 
and during that time Arthur would doubtless have returned to Bri- 
tain had he net feared the roughness of the journey for the sick 
man. No sooner, however, was Gawain on his feet once more than 
he challenged Launcelot for the second time. So they fought, and 
the combat ended just as it had the first time — Launcelot wounding 
Gawain in the very place where he had wounded him before, and 
Gawain vowing to continue the contest as soon as he was able, which 
he doubtless would have done had it not been for an occurrence 
which suddenly changed the plans of the King’s army. 

One terrible day when Arthur, sick at heart and longing for a 
glimpse of Britain and his fair Queen, was sitting in the door of his 
tent, the following message was delivered into his hands: 

“Your nephew, Mordred, has spread the report throughout the 
kingdom that you have been slain in battle. He has also caused 
himself to be crowned King in your stead, and is at this moment 
besieging the Queen in the Tower of London, whither she has fled 
for refuge, having refused to become his wife.” 

Like a flash, as if the entire story had been written there on the 
fateful sheet that lay before him, Arthur understood at last the whole 
treacherous design of his nephew; and he realized in bitterness of 
spirit that his real enemy was Mordred and not Launcelot. 


148 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


That very night, therefore, he gave the order for the army to 
begin its march toward the coast, so that when morning dawned, 
Launcelot looked out to behold the plain before the city walls evac- 
uated, but he had no idea why the King had so suddenly raised the siege. 

And now it was Gawain’s turn to be filled with shame and grief, 
for he realized that he had been but playing into the hands of the 
traitor. 

“Sire,” said he to the harassed King, “I have helped to bring 
all this trouble upon you by my obstinacy concerning Launcelot, 
but I know now that his heart is still loyal to you as his whole be- 
havior has shown. Send for him, therefore, I pray you; lay the full 
blame of this strife upon me; and ask his help in winning back Bri- 
tain from Mordred.” 

But Arthur only shook his head and answered sadly: 

“No, Gawain, we have gone too far, and I have wronged him 
too deeply. I cannot ask his help now. Henceforth I must fight 
my battles alone.” 

So the royal fleet of ships and galleys set sail for Dover, whither 
Mordred led his host to prevent, if possible, the King’s landing. 
This he was not able to do, but a terrible battle took place in which 
many on both sides were killed or wounded. Mordred, however, 
was driven back and obliged to retreat. But when all was over it 
was found that Gawain had been wounded for the third time in the 
same place where Launcelot had wounded him; and now it was very 
evident that he had not long to live. 

\\ hen he realized that, he secretly called a messenger to his side 
and gave him orders to proceed at once to Benwick where he was to 
tell Launcelot that the whole blame for the King’s conduct lay with 
him, Gawain. And he was also to implore the great knight, in the 
name of the old friendships of the Round Table, to forgive the wrong 
that had been done him and to hasten with all speed to the aid of 
his Sovereign. 

Of this message Arthur, of course, knew nothing; but Launcelot, 
you may rest assured, great, true-hearted, noble knight that he really 
was, never hesitated for a moment after it reached him, but set sail at 
once for Britain, where — such was the fatality that now seemed to 
hang over all that concerned the once flourishing Round Table — he 
arrived one day too late. 


THE PASSINC; OF ARTHUR 149 

So Gawain, having with his last breath done his best to set things 
right, died; and then began the slow but sure retreat of Mordred 
before the royal army across the Island of Britain, Day by day the 
King pushed him farther and farther to the westward until at last 
both pursuer and pursued found themselves in Cornwall, where 
retreat was no longer possible. There each made ready for that 
dread battle in the west. 

That night, however, the King had a strange dream. It seemed 
to him that there came, blown along lightly by a wandering wind, the 
ghost of Gawain, and as the phantom passed it cried: 

“Hail, noble King! To-morrow if you fight you will pass away 
and woe will come to Britain. Therefore delay the battle for a 
season, for Launcelot and his knights are on their way to help you.” 

The King awoke with a start, exclaiming: 

“Who spoke? Was it a dream? It was like the voice of Gawain. 
Can it be that he haunts these wastes and wilds knowing that the 
end of the Round Table is at hand?” 

Sir Bedivere who was the first man whom Arthur had knighted, 
and who was still his faithful follower in this hour of darkness, en- 
deavored to reassure his Sovereign. Nevertheless, when morning 
came the King sent messengers to Mordred asking for a meeting 
that they might agree upon a truce. 

Finally it was arranged that Arthur and Mordred, each accom- 
panied by fourteen knights, should meet halfway between the lines 
of the two armies. Arthur, however, so shattered was his former 
faith in human nature, said to those of his men who were to remain 
behind: 

“Watch, I pray you, for I suspect treachery; and if you see a 
sword drawn on either side, do not wait for any other signal but 
begin the battle at once.” 

Now, as the ill-fortune of that fatal day would have it, while 
the King and his nephew were deep in conference, a small adder 
crept from under a bush and stung the foot of one of the knights. 
In an instant, forgetting the strict instructions as to the use of wea- 
pons, the man drew his sword to kill the snake, and the naked steel 
glittered for a moment in the morning sunlight. The royal army, 
however, too far off to see the adder, caught only the flash of that 
drawn sword and mistook it for a signal for battle. Then, though 


150 


TUE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


neither Arthur nor Mordred realized in anj'^ way what had happened, 
while each suspected the other of treachery', the trumpets blew and 
the knights charged forward so that the two great waves of men and 
horses broke upon each other with a mighty crash and clang of arms 
— and thus was joined that last weird battle of the west. 

All day long it raged while a death-white mist crept up from the 
sea, chilling the blood and blinding the eyes, so that friend slew friend, 
not knowing whom he slew. And all fought as men possessed, some 
haunted by visions of their youth and others by the faces of old 
ghosts upon the battle-field. The air was filled with the crash of 
splintering weapons and the shattering of helmet and armor mingled 
with the shouts of those who prevailed and the shrieks of the w'ounded 
and the moans of the dying. 

All day long the forces swayed to and fro, until toward evening 
an unearthly hush fell upon the scene. Then^a bitter wind from the 
north blew aside the mist, revealing to the few survivors the field of 
carnage over which the relentless tide was already creeping. 

The King, however, still stood erect, and by his side were Bedi- 
vere and another faithful follower. Sir Lucan. As the three gazed 
upon the ghastly spectacle before them they suddenly beheld, rising 
victorious upon a heap of slain, the form of Mordred, the only sur- 
vivor of his army. 

But at that sight blind fury seized the King, and, brandishing 
Excalibur, he rushed forward like a lion and fell upon the traitor 
whom, with one terrible blow, he felled to the earth. In his eager- 
ness, however, he had thought only of attack and nothing of defense. 
Thus it happened that Mordred, as he fell, struck the King, inflicting 
a deadly wound so that Arthur dropped fainting over his enemy’s 
expiring body. 

In a moment Bedivere and Lucan were at his side. Together 
they tried to lift him, but Lucan, faithful though he was, could serve 
his Sovereign no more, for he, too, had been wounded, and now, 
overcome by his last effort, dropped dead beside the body of Mor- 
dred, the traitor. And now Bedivere alone, of all the knights of the 
Round Table, was left to care for the stricken King. 

Tenderly he bore him to a ruined chapel in a field near by, and 
there, at the foot of a broken cross, he ministered to him. Presenth'^ 
Arthur stirred slightly, then he opened his eyes and said brokenly: 


THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 


151 


'They sleep — the men I loved.” And a little later he whispered 
weakly, ‘T perish by the people whom I made! Over all is the trail 
of the serpent! Into every holy fellowship the Judas creeps!” 

After a while, however, he was able to rouse himself and to 
speak in a firmer voice. 

“Bedivere, my first and my last knight,” he said, “there yet 



“A RUINED CHAPEL IN A FIELD NEAR BY”* 

•01(1 Castle, Michel. [Courtesy Braun et Cie.] 


remains one thing that jmu may do for me before I pass to the vale 
of Avalon for the healing of my wound. Take Excalibur, throw it 
into the middle of the mere, then retunn quickly and tell me what 
you have seen.” 

Strange words these about his passing, yet they echoed an old 
prophecy of Merlin’s who, wise man though he was, had long since 
brought about his own destruction by his foll3^ Bedivere, however, 
took the wonderful weapon and climbed by a rugged, zigzaged path 
until he reached the shining levels of the lake. There he drew forth 
the sword and was about to fling it into the water, but, as he bran- 



152 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


dished it aloft, the moon crept from behind a cloud and its light 
sparkled for a moment in the keen, frosty air upon the bejewelled 
hilt, revealing the two inscriptions which Bedivere was not able to 
read: 

“Take me” and “cast me away.” 

Then his purpose wavered, for he said to himself: 

“After all, the King’s mind wanders; and if I throw this sword 
away what relic or record of my Lord will be left for future genera- 
tions?” 

So he took Excalibur and hid it among the many-knotted flags 
that whistled dry and stiff by the water’s edge. Then he strode 
back to the helpless King. 

“Have you performed my mission?” inquired Arthur. “What 
have you seen and heard?” 

“Sire, I heard the waters lapping on the rocks and washing 
among the reeds,” was the reply. 

“Oh Bedivere!” cried the King. “You have betrayed the honor 
of your knighthood by acting out this lie! Return and throw the 
brand into the mere, then come back quickly and tell me what you 
have seen.” 

So Bedivere departed a second time, but again the glitter of the 
jewels staj^ed his hand, and he returned without having accomplished 
his errand. 

Then Arthur, breathing more heavily than before, repeated his 
question : 

“What have you seen and heard?” 

And Bedivere answered once again: 

“I heard the water lapping on the crags. Sire, and the long ripple 
washing in the reeds.” 

At this the King’s anger flamed. 

“Traitor, unkind, untrue!” he cried in scorn, “you are the last 
of my knights left to me and you will not do my bidding. So does 
authority forget a dying king!” 

Then Bedivere, who after all loved his Sovereign with all his 
heart, was filled with remorse and shame, and leaped along the path 
till he stood once more at the water’s edge. There he drew Excali- 
bur from the bushes, and closing his eyes that he might not again 


THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 


153 


be tempted, hurled the beautiful sword with all his might' toward 
the middle of the mere. Round and round it whirled, making light- 
nings in the splendor of the moon; but lo! before it reached the 
crest of the waves a mighty arm clothed in white samite rose from 
the bosom of the lake and caught it by the hilt, brandishing it three 
times, after which it drew the mystic weapon beneath the mere whence 
it had come. 

Presently Bedivere, well-nigh overcome with awe and wonder, 
made his way back to the King’s side; and Arthur, when he saw 
his knight’s eyes, said as one whose mind was set at rest: 

“Now I know, Bedivere, that you. have obeyed my command.” 

After a while, when he had lain for some time in silence, he 
looked up into his knight’s face saying softly: 

“The end draws near. Carry me, I pray you, to the water’s 
edge.” 

Bedivere, with tears in his eyes, obeyed; and as they reached 
the mere, shining in the pure cold light of the wintry moon, he beheld 
a dusky barge moving toward them. Its decks were thronged with 
black-robed figures whose faces were hidden in their hoods; but 
among the rest stood three queens in crowns of gold, and from them 
came a wailing sound of lamentation — a cry “that shivered to the 
tingling stars.” 

“Lay me in the barge,” said the King faintly, as the little craft 
came to shore. 

Presently the barge began to put off from the shore, and ‘Bedi- 
vere was left standing alone crying brokenly: 

“Ah whither shall I go, for the days of knight^" glory are dead, 
and the Round Table is no more!” 

Softl}^ faintly, across the gleaming waters came an answer in 
the King’s own dear, familiar voice: 

“Bedivere, do not grieve, but go j^our way and live out the rest 
of your life as duty calls you. My life’s work is done, and I pass to 
the island-valley of Avalon, where come neither hail, nor snow, nor 
wind nor the sun’s heat, but where all things rest and thrive amid 
wooded meadows ringed round with summer seas. Thither I go for 
the healing of my wound; and when I am well, perchance, should 
Britain need me, I will come again. LTntil then, for the old order 
changes yielding place to new. Farewell!” 


154 


THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR 


Then the barge, like a full-breasted swan, moved farther and 
farther into the distance until Bedivere’s straining eyes could see but 
its hull like one black dot against the dawn. Presently the wailing 
died away along the mere, while the lonely knight’s cry of despair 
seemed answered in the words of Merlin’s weird rhyme: 

“From the great deep to the great deep he goes.” 

And then, with the dawn there seemed to come, faintly as from 
beyond the limits of the world, a sound like the last echo of a great 
burst of triumph, as if the people of some fair city were welcoming 
their king, returning victorious from his wars. 

Such was the passing of Arthur; but what of the two who had 
been nearest and dearest to him in life.^ 

Guinevere, when she heard the news of that terrible battle, left 
the Tower of London and sought retreat among the sisters in the 
abbey of Almesbury, and after a while she took the veil herself. 
There she lived a gentle, patient, helpful life, caring for the sick and 
ministering to the poor, until, at the death of the Abbess, she was 
selected to fill the vacant place. So, for the last three years of her 
life, Guinevere, the former Queen of Britain was Abbess of Almes- 
bury. 

And Launcelot, who with all his anxious haste to reach his Sov- 
ereign, had nevertheless arrived too late — he likewise, forsaking the 
helmet for the coWl, passed from the noiseful life of arms and acts 
of prowess done in tournament and tilt into the silent life of prayer; 
and with him into his retreat went Bedivere and Bors. Thus was 
fulfilled the prophecy that the mighty Launcelot of the Lake, against 
whose soul the powers of darkness had waged relentless warfare, 
should die a holy man. 


GLOSSARY U 


1. Abbess, the lady superior of a nunnery. 
i. Adder, a viper, a snake. 

3. Battering-ram, a long beam, usually with a 

heavy head, used in making breaches in 
walls. 

4. Brandish, to wave or shake a weapon. 

.5. Carnage, great slaughter. 

(). Cowl, a monk’s hood. 

7. Galley, a vessel propelled by oars. 


8. Hawk, to hunt by means of trained hawks 

instead of dogs. 

9. Helmet, a covering of armor for the head. 

10. Holy Man, a monk. 

11. Judas, the disciple who betrayed Christ 

with a kiss; therefore, a traitor. 

12. Mere, a pond, pool, or lakelet. 

13. Quagmire, soft, marshy ground, a bog. 

14. Truce, temporary su.spcnsion of a contest. 


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